Concrete Angel
by Teardrops 13
Summary: I stepped toward the running shower, wanting to confront him. When I peered around the corner, I saw Malfoy's back. He turned around, much to my horror, and locked eyes with me for a brief second before scowling deeply. "Enjoy the show" HIATUS
1. Unexpected Views From Behind

**Disclaimer: The wonderful J.K. Rowling owns everything Harry Potter. I own only this plot. So please don't sue, because the only thing I really own is the brain in my head. (:**

**A/N: Since my first Drarry (One Step Closer) was so well received, I've decided to write another. (: Anyway, I really enjoy the idea of this one because it seems so, I don't know, angsty. lol There will be smut and sap, though I haven't decided whether sado-masochism will play a role in this one. Anyhoo, enjoy! **

**A/N: As always, I LOVE reviews. So leave me a note. It'll make me happier. (:**

Unexpected Views From Behind

OoO

I awoke to the sound of my alarm ringing rather loudly in my ear. I slammed my fist down on the stupid thing to shut it up. Yawning loudly, I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Everyone else in my dorm was still asleep. I had to wake up early to prepare for today's match against the bloody Slytherins. I mean, for Christ's sake, you'd think the little buggers would just quit. But no, their damn captain makes them push and push, even when they obviously can't push any fucking harder.

Malfoy is such a shitty captain.

I pulled my robes on, grabbed my wand and the map, and left the Common Room. I was still only half-awake, so I kept stumbling. Flying should wake me fully, though. I sighed as I finally reached the Pitch, dew still fresh on the early-morning grass.

I summoned my broom and mounted. In less than five seconds, I was in the air and sailing. The wind blew against my face, sending my hair into a knotted frenzy. Not that it wasn't always like that, but still. The cold wind bit at my skin through my thin robes. The sensation sent chills to every part of my body, but somehow I managed.

Unfortunately, my serenity was short-lived.

Glancing down, I saw a blonde head bobbing up the Pitch toward the stands, broom in hand. Why wasn't he mounting? Why was he just watching? I'm nothing special to look at on a broom. I shook the thoughts from my mind and continued flying around for at least twenty more minutes, checking to make sure everything was in order. It was. I landed, and Malfoy started toward me.

Damn, couldn't I get just one bloody morning of peace?

"Saw you flying, Potter," he drawled, a smirk playing on that disgusting, pasty complexion of his. He looked me directly in the eye, as if challenging me. What exactly he was challenging me to remained unknown, but I sighed and continued walking.

"And?" I asked impatiently. I simply was not in the mood to deal with his bullshit this early in the morning.

"You've improved since yesterday morning, but you're still too slow. I doubt you'll even be able to keep up with me today," he told me, mock concernedly. I rolled my eyes, suppressing my anger.

"If you say so, Malfoy," I sighed, placing my broom back in my locker. I turned to leave to see him scowling at me.

"That's it?" he asked, sounding slightly disappointed. "No argument?"

"Nope," I told him, shrugging. I started walking back to the Castle, him following me. "You're right after all. There's no way we could ever beat a team as well put together as yours. Our dreams wouldn't even allow it."

I could feel his cold grey eyes bearing into my back. I was too tired to argue with him. At least this way he might get some sense of over-confidence, allowing us to secure our win even faster.

"You've really lost your touch," he sneered, trying to anger me. "I really expected more from you."

I rolled my eyes and reached the Castle doors. I immediately ran upstairs to finish my morning's sleep. That arse was NOT going to interrupt me while I was up here. No way in Hell.

OoOoO

After the Quidditch match was over, I smiled to myself. I knew we'd win; we always win. And today it was a truly victorious win. 750 – 25. I honestly felt sorry for Malfoy. I mean, having to go back to that pack of vicious, bloodthirsty animals seemed cruel, even for him.

I walked around the pitch a few times before finally heading to the showers. I figured everyone would be gone, but much to my surprise, I heard the shower farthest from the door still running. I also noticed slim robes hanging by some sort of spell on the wall. I assumed it was to keep them off the floor.

But wait, green? That's a Slytherin tie, not a Gryffindor one! Why would a Slytherin shower in our locker room though? Isn't stripping bare and scrubbing yourself in front of your enemies against their code? Deciding I wanted to know who exactly was using our showers, I peeked in at the tag.

Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy? Malfoy is using our showers? Why the hell?

I stepped lightly toward the running shower, wanting to confront him. However, when I peered around the corner, I saw Malfoy's back. His bruised, scratched, and scabbed back. My breath caught in my throat.

He turned around, much to my horror, and locked eyes with me for a brief second before scowling deeply.

"Enjoy the show?" I was surprised to realize that his voice lacked the certain arrogance it usually did. He sounded almost human. Almost, anyway.

"I was going to ask you why you're using our showers instead of your own, but now I would like to know why there are bruises lining your back," I told him, planting my feet firmly so I wouldn't run off.

"That's none of your damn business, Potter," he told me, his voice lacking the usual maliciousness. I sensed this was a pretty sensitive subject, so I gave him one last chance to tell me before I left his shower and took my own.

OoOoO

Ron, Hermione and I walked to Potions together as usual. They were chatting about something or other, but I was only half-listening. My mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Malfoy last night. Every time I would visualize those bruises, my body would involuntarily shudder. How did he get all of those damn bruises? And why didn't he talk about it? Was he abused? Wait, why the hell do I care? I hate Malfoy!

I was so lost in thought that I hadn't even noticed entering Potions and sitting next to Ron. He was waving a hand in front of my face as if I had spaced out or something. Well, I guess I had spaced out. And it was over something so stupid, too. I mean, Malfoy is probably just a masochist and was too embarrassed to say anything. Yeah, that's it. He's just a masochist.

Sighing, I smacked away Ron's hand in agitation. Stupid git. "Listen, Ron, I'm fine, okay? So stop waving your hand in front of my face like I'm some sort of stupid arse or something, alright?" I knew that he was blushing without even looking.

I heard the door slam. I knew Snape was walking in, which meant Hell for me. I was not in the mood for Snape's annoying voice. Knowing him, he would probably give us a potion impossible for anyone except Hermione to complete properly. And when Ron and I botched it, he would try to humiliate us in front of the rest of the class. Of course, we were used to it by now, so it didn't really bother us all that much anymore.

"Quiet," Snape drawled, stepping to the front of the room. I rolled my eyes. Quiet? Nobody was fucking talking to begin with. Stupid arse. "Today you will be replicating a Healing Potion. Most of you have probably taken it during the fight with the Dark Lord. As you know, it can easily save your life. So I advise you to learn how to make it properly. I must warn you though, by stirring it incorrectly, you will succeed in brewing a Killing Potion. If you do, I will make sure to have you test it."

I sighed loudly, causing Snape to avert his glare to me. "Yes, Mr. Potter? Is there something you would like to say?" I knew it was a challenge. He was challenging me to respond so he could give me a detention. I was debating whether or not to answer when a voice drawled from the back of the class.

"He probably wanted to tell you how pointless it is to have us make this damn potion, seeing as we're not incompetent second years. I am sure that all of us, Potter included, can successfully complete this primitive potion." It was Malfoy. Malfoy was defending me. Was he trying to make sure that I wouldn't tell anyone about his back?

Snape's face fell into a scowl. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, since you are so positive that everyone in this seventh year class can complete this potion perfectly, I will allow you to duplicate another." His scowl grew into a smirk within a matter of seconds. Oh, shit. That was the look he had right before he asked us to do the impossible. Damn! "In fact, I have an idea. The class will work in pairs to complete a project for me. I would like you to create a potion of your own design. Your potion will need to solve a problem both of you are experiencing. You will have until next Tuesday to complete this assignment and present it to the class." Everyone started talking happily. But I knew there had to be a catch.

"But, I will assign your partners." I knew it. Everyone let out a simultaneous groan. "And since it was Mr. Malfoy's doing that led to this decision, I will allow him to choose his partner. After he chooses, I will assign the rest of you partners." I rolled my eyes. If I had said what Malfoy had, I'd be in detention. But no. Since he said it, he gets rewarded. And I was under the assumption teachers weren't supposed to show favoritism.

"Potter." It took my brain at least three consecutive minutes to process what had just happened. Snape told Malfoy he could choose his partner. Malfoy chose me. Me. What the hell? Something was wrong with this picture. First Malfoy defends me publicly when he knows I would've gotten detention if he hadn't interfered, then he chooses me as his 'lab partner'. Why was he being so nice to me?

"Mr. Malfoy, if this is your attempt at humor, I feel I must point out that it is not funny," Snape said, seemingly as confused as the rest of the class. I looked to the back of the class at Malfoy. He was sitting next to a very offended looking Pansy Parkinson. His face was the epitome of sincerity, and yet, I still couldn't believe he'd said that. Something about it was off. Something about it was just plain wrong.

He casually locked eyes with me. In that two-second connection, I felt that he was being serious, that it wasn't all just some joke. I still couldn't and wouldn't allow myself to believe it. Lord knows I don't want to be partners with Malfoy for a week.

"I assure you, Professor, that I am being completely sincere. You asked me to pick a partner, and I choose Potter," Malfoy told Snape, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I was still reluctant to believe him, even though my gut was telling me that he wasn't lying. Stupid fucking gut. I wish it would just shut up sometimes.

Snape (and the rest of the class) returned his gaze to me. He now looked annoyed, as if it were frustrating for him to have his favorite student, who happened to be his godson, choose me as his partner. You would think the man would show a little respect for me, what with the fact that he SHOWED me why he'd been such a prick over the years, and it was my fault he was still ALIVE. Well, maybe that's his new reason for hating me; I didn't let him die.

"Well, Mr. Potter?" Snape seemed to be asking me. "Are you going to go sit next to Mr. Malfoy or am I going to have to carry you over there?"

I rolled my eyes, grabbed my bag and walked back to where Pansy had stood. I sat in her seat while she sneered down at me, resentment obvious in those dark eyes of hers. I then remembered something. I looked around the classroom quickly, looking for a specific person.

I locked eyes with him and gave him a reassuring smile. He eyed Malfoy with apprehension for a moment, then smiled back at me, as if to say he was okay with us working together, but he didn't like it. I nodded and looked over at Malfoy while Snape started pairing everyone off.

"What are you playing at?" I asked him quietly as Snape assigned Seamus to work with Goyle. I looked over at him and shrugged. I smiled apologetically. He glared at me. I mouthed something to him, and he started to smile.

"Well, apparently it's you whose playing at something," Malfoy commented as I turned back to face him. I quirked an eyebrow, trying to feign indifference. It worked pretty well, but I had a feeling he knew I wanted to know exactly what he meant. Which obviously meant I had something to hide.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked as calmly as I could. I could see him smirk and suddenly realized just how attractive that smirk made him. Wait, no! This is Malfoy we're talking about! The same Malfoy that broke my nose, body-bound me, covered me with my invisibility cloak and let the train take off with me still onboard LAST YEAR! He wasn't attractive! He was evil and manipulative and a backstabbing bastard!

"Well," he answered, obviously oblivious to the argument going on in my head. "You and Finnegan are obviously shagging. Now why you'd want to shag him I really don't understand, but it is quite apparent that you two enjoy it at least. And it's also apparent that none of your friends have taken notice as of late. Either they are in denial, or they really are as dense as I believe them to be. Either way, it doesn't matter."

I rolled my eyes, my heart suddenly thundering and hammering wildly against my ribcage. I didn't let my nervousness show, though, thank God. "If it doesn't matter, then why'd you even bring it up in the first place?" I asked, obviously annoyed.

He answered me with another one of those sexy smirks. No! He was NOT sexy! Draco Malfoy is NOT and NEVER WILL BE sexy! Ugh!

"Well, if my partner might make some advances toward me, I have the right to know exactly who they're doing so I can promptly have it end," he told me, looking over at Seamus briefly. I knew my face had twisted into something representing confusion, disbelief and disgust. I would NEVER hit on Malfoy! The fact that he even THINKS it might be a possibility is atrocious!

I glared at him as I answered. "Believe me, Malfoy, I would never hit on you. I am quite happy with my relationship with Seamus, and I have no doubt in my mind that anything you could offer would be second-best compared to him," I told him heatedly, trying to keep my voice low. It was only then that I had realized that Pansy had been paired up with Hermione.

Malfoy smirked at me again and fantasies went flying through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to expel the images from my brain. "We'll just see about that, won't we, Potter?"

I glared at him. "You never did explain why you chose me," I pointed out, trying to change the subject. The last thing I needed was Seamus to get a howler from his wacko mum saying she and the rest of the family disowned him because he was gay. Damn Christians.

"Ah, but is it really of any importance?" he asked, his tone suddenly reflecting his obvious discomfort. I suddenly grew braver.

"Of course it matters, Malfoy. I mean, I see your tortured back the other day and now you're suddenly defending me and choosing to work with me? Something about that is off," I told him, keeping my tone very low. The last thing I needed was everyone to overhear this conversation. That could create more trouble than Malfoy was worth.

His body tensed as soon as I mentioned the shower incident. "Your spying on me while I was in the shower was not only an obvious release of pent up sexual tension, but it was also very sadistic of you," he mumbled. I raised my eyebrows in shock. Malfoy was mumbling his retorts. Now I was certain something was wrong. Something was VERY wrong.

"Sadistic? Please. And I wasn't spying. I just wanted to know why you were using our showers instead of your own," I explained, trying to keep my voice low. It was becoming increasingly difficult as the subject was becoming increasingly interesting. At least now I had something to hold over him for once in his pathetic life.

"You weren't even supposed to be there," he told me angrily, obviously struggling to keep his voice down as well. At least I wasn't the only one.

"Wasn't supposed to be there? I'm a Gryffindor. Those were the Gryffindor showers. Where else was I supposed to be?" I asked him, confused. What the hell did he mean by 'I wasn't supposed to be there'?

"I meant that all of you stupid Gryffindors were supposed to have been gone," he told me, refusing to look me in the eye.

"Why were you using ours anyway?" I demanded, suddenly annoyed at his avoidance of the question.

"I always do," he mumbled.

"What?" My eyebrows damn near shot off my face.

"Look, I just don't want the rest of the Slytherins asking a bunch of questions, alright?" he sounded pissed off. Granted, if I were in his shoes, I would probably be a little annoyed, too.

I didn't have time to respond, though, as class was dismissed. He stood and left immediately, seemingly glad he didn't have to talk to me anymore. Well, Malfoy, I have some bad news for you.

I will find the truth out.


	2. Chats With The Enemy

**A/N: Thanks for the support, guys. I really appreciate it. Anyway, this chapter is mucho angsty, so beware. No smut yet, but I will warn you when there is. If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to express them via review. Love you guys. Enjoy Chapter Two! (:**

Chats With The Enemy

OoO

Ron and Hermione kept bugging me all day about what Malfoy said to me. Of course, I never gave them a straight answer. Ron seemed to take the hint and stopped talking about it. Either that or he was honestly too stupid to realize that I was lying. Either way, Hermione refused to let up.

"Listen, 'Mione, I love you to death and everything, but just shut up for once!" I finally snapped in frustration.

"Harry, I just want to know what he said. It's obvious he's using something against you. I just want to know what exactly that is," she explained for the umpteenth time. "I mean, you aren't dating anyone, you haven't done anything stupid in ages, and you just humiliated him in that last Quidditch match!"

Okay, don't judge me. So my best friends have no idea I'm gay. And they obviously have no idea that I'm dating Seamus. But that's not my fault! I mean, it's not that I don't trust them, because I do, it's just, I don't know how they're going to react. And well, it's just easier not to have to deal with them.

"Hermione," I said, sighing deeply, "All he said was that he picked me because I have a lot of problems. He said we had to have at least one in common. That's all. Alright?"

She gave me a questioning look. "Fine," she told me hesitantly. "I'll stop for now, but mark my words Harry James Potter, this isn't over."

I grinned and wrapped her in an unexpected hug. She squealed in surprise before laughing and hugging me back. "Thanks, 'Mione," I told her with a smile. Ron looked annoyed that I had hugged her. I decided to do both of them a favor.

"Listen, Ron," I said, smirking, "The other day Hermione and I were talking in the Common Room while you were asleep. She told me that she really likes you and wants you to ask her out, but she's too embarrassed to tell you. And Hermione," I said, turning to face my now deeply blushing friend, "Ron and I were talking before the Quidditch match yesterday, and he confessed for the hundredth time how madly in love with you he is. Now will the both of you kiss and just make it official already?"

I fought back a laugh as they turned to face each other, both redder than their ties, and slowly leaned in, kissing each other. After a few minutes of snogging, they clasped hands, turned to me, smiled, and walked off in the other direction.

"Playing matchmaker, Potter?" came a deep voice from behind me. I spun around and met stone grey eyes. My knees weakened a bit as I took in the blonde's appearance. Un-tucked shirt, tie hanging loosely around his long, slender neck, hair just slightly askew. I fought back the unwanted fantasies before they would become obvious to anyone who happened to be looking down.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," I told him weakly, squeezing my eyes shut tightly, attempting again to banish the disgusting images from my mind. It was to no avail. So I instead started to fantasize about Seamus. That worked for a few seconds until the thoughts became one and I was fantasizing about a damn threesome. I am such a bloody pervert.

"But of course you do," he said to me, smirking slightly. "That's what you do. You save people from themselves. You protect them from their own choices. You are the Hero, the Golden Boy. And everything you do has some higher meaning. You never help people just to help them. Take Weasley and Granger for example. You got them together so they would leave you alone and stop confiding their love for one another in you. Personal gain drives all manipulation, but of course you would already know that."

I glared at him weakly, still unable to dispel the horrid thoughts that plagued my mind. Every syllable that floated out of his mouth drifted into my ear, dripping their sultry tone in all the right places. I could barely refrain from moaning. I had to bite my lip so hard it had started bleeding. What the hell was Malfoy doing? I can't want him! He's MALFOY for Christ's sake!

"I don't manipulate anyone, Malfoy," I growled at him.

He smirked at me. "Of course not. That would be wrong. You simply persuade them into doing what you feel is best for them. Even if they disagree, they always follow your orders. Because you're their savior, their knight in shining armor, and everything you do must be for their best interest." He paused briefly before continuing. "But I know better. I see you for exactly what you are. You, Harry Potter, are an infectious wound. Once you attack someone, they become infected and in turn affect those they come in contact with."

My breathing hitched slightly as I contemplated what he had just said. I had to remind myself that it was Malfoy and that nothing he said should be taken seriously, but he was right. Everything he was saying was true. I was a manipulative bastard, and I would always be a manipulative bastard. Just because people voluntarily followed my every suggestion, didn't quash the reality of it all. "Listen, Malfoy," I finally managed, my voice low, "I don't manipulate anyone. I don't need to. I'm not like you or your damned family. I am honest with my friends and everyone close to me. And nothing you say or do will change that."

He just smirked at me. And my heart erupted into millions of butterflies that all met up in my stomach to flutter around restlessly. "We'll see about that, Potter," he said quietly. "And if you're still wondering why I chose you as my partner, it was because of one shared problem we both have. Just one thing we somehow manage to have in common."

I glared at him. "We don't have a damn thing in common, Malfoy," I snapped.

"But we do," he told me, moving ever closer. "We have one huge thing in common that outsiders wouldn't understand. They would just say we were overreacting. But we're not." His mouth was right by my ear. I could feel his hot breath on my skin as his voice lowered into a soft whisper. "We both know pain."

And with that, he was gone. I was standing in the middle of that hallway looking dumbfounded. His words finally registered with me. We both know pain. I shook my head and continued walking to my next class.

OoOoO

The rest of the day was spent trying to figure out just what Malfoy had meant. He couldn't possibly mean what I thought he meant. Because that would mean those scars and bruises weren't caused by his masochistic tendencies (if such tendencies even existed). And that thought frightened me.

It was finally dinnertime. I entered the Hall with Seamus. We were laughing and joking like best mates should, careful not to appear too friendly. I made a quick glance to the Slytherin Table. He was sitting next to Pansy and Zabini, head bent low and talking quickly. They were listening to every word, drinking up every sound that left his beautiful mouth. Beautiful mouth? Oh crap, I'm doing it again! With Seamus right next to me nonetheless! I have serious issues.

I shook my head and grinned, turning back to Seamus who had apparently been looking at me the entire time. He frowned at me, obviously hurt by my staring at Malfoy. I sighed, realizing that my new obsession with the Slytherin was going to eventually ruin my relationship with Seamus.

"Listen, Shay, before you get upset, I promise nothing is going on, okay?" I asked gently, putting my hand on his shoulder in a reassuring way. He gave me a questioning look before shaking my hand off. I wasn't really offended, but it still stung a little. I knew he was paranoid about everyone finding out he was gay, but it was hard not being able to show my boyfriend affection, you know?

He started walking out of the Hall, so I followed him. Nobody seemed to notice, so I didn't really think anything of it. When we were finally away from any prying eyes, he took both my hands into his in a gentle manner. I knew I wasn't going to like what he was about to say, and I could tell he didn't either. Tears were already welling up in his gorgeous eyes.

"Harry," he said softly, his voice thick with remorse and fear. I felt terrible. I knew that whatever was about to happen was my fault. And that hurt. A lot. "I-I think we should stop seeing each other." The words felt like a slap in the face. Stop seeing each other? Why? I hoped that it didn't have anything to do with Malfoy. I'll be damned if my perfectly good relationship is ruined over that damn prat!

"Why?" I managed to choke out, surprised I wasn't crying. I knew I should feel hurt and betrayed and like my life was over, but I felt nothing. I felt no real emotion toward what was going on. I knew I should. And I really wanted to. But, I just didn't.

Seamus forced a smile. "Harry, I see the way you look at him. It's the same way you used to look at me, when we first started dating. I don't know why you love him, and it hurt when I first realized the truth about it, but I know that you do. Even if you won't admit it, you know you do, too. And I can't be your fallback. I'm an all-or-nothing 

kind of guy. Either you love me and only me, or you don't. And even though I may love you with all my heart, I know deep down that you don't feel the same way anymore."

He let go of my hands and ran out of the classroom we had walked into without me realizing. Something in my brain told me that Seamus was right, but I stabbed that something over and over again until it shut its stupid fucking mouth. I sighed heavily, and ran a shaky hand through my thick, messy hair. I needed to think. And I needed to be alone.

OoOoO

I don't remember walking to the Pitch, or mounting my broom, or taking off. All I knew was that I was flying around the Pitch repeatedly. The wind was flying through my hair, biting against my flesh. An icy numbness had washed over me a while ago, and I had welcomed it with open arms. I couldn't stop thinking about what Malfoy had said earlier. Was I really that manipulative?

I sighed and closed my eyes, letting my broom guide me as thoughts washed over me. A few days ago, none of this would even have been a problem. But everything has changed in less than forty-eight hours. Now I was boyfriend-less, confused out of my fucking mind, and longing for the cure I had given up six months ago. It was still in my top dresser drawer, hidden from anyone who decided to snoop through my stuff. That small, silver blade that held so many memories and promised so many more.

I opened my eyes just as I was about to collide with the only other person flying. I reared my broom to the right, barely avoiding him. I swore loudly as I landed, my feet barely supporting my weight. They had fallen asleep while I was flying, and hurt like hell now, so I sat down, cross-legged, on the wet grass. The blonde landed next to me and sat beside me.

"Thought I'd find you here," he told me, looking up at the sky. I groaned inwardly, not wanting to deal with him and his drama at the moment. He had caused enough problems.

"What do you want?" I asked, looking at the stars. The little specks of light danced across the night sky, forming various images. I looked for my favorite constellation and couldn't help smiling a little as my eyes rested on it. It always brought me peace, no matter my mood, and I had used it so many times in these past six months. Staying clean was more difficult than any could imagine. The longing for the release was almost unbearable.

"You seemed upset in the Hall tonight. I just wanted to know why you and Finnegan broke up," he told me quietly, a smidgen of concern filling his voice. I should've been shocked, but with all that had been going on, I wasn't by a long shot. In fact, I almost expected as much.

"He thought I was in love with another man," I told him quietly, thinking back to that moment. That had been the moment when everything had taken a drastic turn. That's when my need for release started to overpower my other senses, and I needed to get away from people. People cause drama, and if I had to take any more drama, I wouldn't have been able to hold out. I would've caved into temptation and started up again.

"Oh," The word was quiet. I turned my head to look at him, determined to get a straight answer. I needed something to hold on to, because I was slowly slipping back into old habits. I was silently dying, and I needed to scream. I wanted to let everyone know that becoming close to me was like signing their death sentence. But I remained in my isolated prison, away from everyone else.

"Malfoy, what did you mean by 'we both know pain'?" I asked, expecting another run-around like the last time. In all honesty, I just wanted something to focus on other than my pain. I needed something else to focus on.

"I thought it was obvious," he said, turning to face me. Our eyes locked and I felt something transferred through that gaze, though I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was. All I knew was that whatever it was had to be important. "You're pretty good at hiding things, Potter, but I'm better at finding them. I know what lingers in your top dresser drawer. I know that you crave to feel it glide across your flesh again. And I know that you're barely restraining yourself from running up there and getting it right now. I know because I've been there. I've taken one of those beautiful blades and let my hand guide it across my skin in places most would not think to look. I've reveled in the euphoria that came with the feeling of the pain as blood dripped onto my bed sheets. I submerged myself in that physical pain until the emotional pain had passed."

I gaped at him. "But how did you know I was an addict?" I asked, still not sure how he could have figured it out. I had mastered the most powerful concealer charms and used them effectively. Ron, Hermione, or even Seamus didn't know. Nobody did. Except me. So how did my mortal nemesis find out? How did he see what everyone else had been blind to?

"In all honesty, I've had my suspicions for a while now. But they remained as just that until a few mornings ago when you were out here flying around. You had apparently forgotten to cast your charms and as the wind rippled your sleeves, I saw the scars. Not many, but enough to confirm my suspicions. You've been clean for at least four months, though. That much is obvious from the lack of color on the scars. Lucky for you they're healing properly." He stopped briefly to inhale deeply. "But then you walked in on me in the shower. Even though I could have easily passed it off as me being a masochist, I chose not to. I knew you wouldn't say anything, not even to those idiots you call best friends. I knew because you have your reasons, too. And I knew that you would not judge me if I ever chose to come out to you. Not because you held any liking toward me, but because you couldn't."

I couldn't believe it. But, what caused him to resort to those measures? He had no reason to. He had a good life. Sure, his parents were Death Eaters, but they spoiled the Hell out of him. And his friends did everything he told them to. Plus, he was the unofficial 'sex god' of the Slytherin House. He had no real reason to go there.

"Why?" I asked him softly.

He turned his head back to the sky. The moonlight illuminated his thin frame. His body was glowing in the pale light, shadows cascading down the blades of grass. His head was tilted to the sky in a way that his blonde hair fell across his face in a most beautiful fashion. I couldn't help but realize how pure he looked, basking in the moonlight.

"Are you sure you want to hear this?" he asked me. I mumbled yes and he continued. "It started when I was twelve. I was home for the winter holidays and Mother was away on a trip with her friends. Father said she'd needed a vacation. So it was just him and I. Not that I cared then. I was used to being alone with Father for weeks at a time when Mother would take her trips. But I was in bed that night and I was just falling asleep when he entered the room. I wouldn't have noticed it at all if he hadn't sat down right next to me. He reached into my pants and started giving me a hand job. I sat straight up, unsure if it was actually happening. Once I saw that it was, I slapped his hand away. But he smirked at me and went right back to it, sitting on my legs and pinning my arms to the mattress so I wouldn't struggle. As soon as I came, he stood off and unbuttoned his trousers. He shoved himself into me and forced me to suck him off. He came into my mouth and I was forced to swallow it. Then he just left. It all seemed so surreal, I thought I had been dreaming. So I went back to bed. But it continued for the rest of the Holiday. Sometimes he would corner me or wait until I was showering, and other times he would just sneak into my bedroom at night. I let him do it every Holiday until fifth year, when I finally decided to fight back. When he tried to fuck me in the shower, I shoved him into the tile wall. He didn't really like that, so he grabbed me by the wrists and twisted me around until I was pinned against the cold wall, water beating down on the both of us. He fucked me repeatedly until I was sobbing into the wall and bleeding from my arse. From then on, he would use whips or chains when he used me. If I tried to fight back, even in the littlest amount, I would be 'punished'. Even though it left obvious marks on my back, he didn't care. One night I couldn't take it and I grabbed the razor from his study. I ran into my room and locked the door. I sat on my bed for what seemed like hours before I finally scraped it across my wrist. Blood gushed out, but the feeling was fantastic. At least I couldn't feel the pain from within. I couldn't feel the scars that kept being ripped open again every time he used me, never getting the chance to heal. And I became addicted. To this day, I use it as a release."

I wasn't surprised, really. And I knew he'd want to hear my story. But I couldn't really say anything at the moment. I locked eyes with him yet again to see that he was crying silently. I couldn't keep myself from joining him, though.

We sat there for what seemed like hours, staring at each other and just crying.


	3. He's Not Gone

**A/N: I really love all the reviews guys. They make me feel so loved! (: Anyway, this chapter is mucho angsty. More so than the last one. Still no smut, but I promise there will be soon. Enjoy the chapter, and review when you're done! Love you guys! (:**

He's Not Gone

OoO

Finally, the question was asked.

"So why'd you start?" he asked me softly, turning his beautiful blonde head toward me.

I sighed. Sure, everyone knew my life was Hell, but nobody knew just how shitty it was. Even with that damn moron dead, things aren't any easier. I wasn't sure how to say this. I mean, I'd never told anyone else. How would I even start?

I took a deep breath and decided that starting at the beginning would be best. "Well, I guess it started when I was born. But the urges didn't start until fourth year. Technically, the end of fourth year. In all honesty, it had very little to do with Cedric's death. I mean, sure, that contributed, but not much. I went home that summer to the Hell that I had been forced to live in my entire life and, to say the least, I wasn't welcomed. My uncle wasn't at the train station to pick me up, so I just walked home. Sure it was far, but I needed time alone before I faced those bastards anyway. So when I finally got there a couple hours later, the house was empty. Well, I thought it was empty. I heard moaning from upstairs and figured it was just Vernon and Petunia going at it. I shuddered and went into my bedroom. Well, the moaning didn't stop, so I cast a silencing charm around my room. The Ministry was in disarray after I had told everyone about Voldemort, so they didn't even notice. Anyway, a few minutes later, some idiot girl walks into my room claiming she thought it was the bathroom. I told her it wasn't and that the bathroom was down the hall. But she wouldn't leave. She kept getting closer and closer. I told her to leave. She smirked at me and just kept coming. I grabbed my wand and sent her flying into the wall in the hallway. She looked thoroughly pissed off, but I didn't care. I slammed and locked my door. Next thing I know she's in my room with my damn cousin whimpering from under her grasp. She has her own wand pointed at him, and I suddenly recognize her. Matilda Jorkins. Or more commonly known by her maiden surname, Scarlet. She told me that either I came with her or she'd kill Dudley. I told her to go fuck herself. She said she wasn't kidding and that if I didn't move within three seconds, my cousin would be lying in a heap at the foot of my bed. So I killed the bitch. I grabbed my wand and with a quick flick, she was sprawled, lifeless on the floor. Dudley looked as if he were going to faint just from the sight of it all. So I cast a quick memory charm and sent him to his room. I through her body out the window, letting it land in the neighbor's lawn. Well, my uncle came home and saw the body. He immediately assumed it was my fault, and with Dudley not remembering anything, I was screwed. He took a hot poker iron and heated it in the fire. He pinned me down and started 'branding' me. He said that maybe if I knew who I belonged to that I would stop acting like such a damn hero. Well, after he was done, I could barely move, so he had Dudley carry me to my room. On my nightstand was a safety pin. I took the pin out and started scratching my arms as deep as I could get it to go. I just needed something to stop all the pain. And I found it. A few weeks later I went into town and bought me a pack of razors. I keep one on me, always, just in case."

I turned away from him, not out of embarrassment, but to avoid him seeing the tears that were now flowing freely down my cheeks. I'm not sure why I cared about Malfoy's opinion of me, but I just did. I don't know. Something about just putting yourself out there was more difficult than I would've liked. I mean, all I wanted was someone who would understand and not judge. I never thought that someone would be Draco Malfoy. He's the same Draco Malfoy that's made my life hell for the past six odd years. How is it that that same Draco Malfoy is the one I'm confiding my darkest secret in now?

"Can-Can I see them?" he asked me. I turned back to face him. He was crying, too, so I didn't feel as stupid. I lifted my shirt off to expose my chest to him. Of course it looked normal, so I removed the concealer charms and looked down at myself. One by one, tiny, scratchlike scars appeared. Some were deep, others were long. I couldn't help but feel disgusted by it. They were so…

"Beautiful," he murmured. I figured it was more to himself than to me, but I couldn't help but to be taken aback by the comment. Beautiful? How? How were hundreds of disfiguring injuries beautiful? They were horrid!

"Beautiful?" I asked. "How?"

He gazed into my eyes and started tracing the marks with his long, slender fingers. "Because you survived. You survived the torture and you're still sane. I don't look at these marks as signs of abuse. I look at them as signs of strength and fortitude." He paused briefly and looked down at my chest where his hands were still tracing the cuts and burns. Every touch of his gentle fingers felt like soft caresses and my breath was becoming increasingly shallower. He felt so gentle, so perfect. "You're like a Lion." That sentence was spoken in a barely audible whisper.

A Lion. Hm. I never thought of it like that. In fact, I've never thought of it as anything other than tainted memories. I still couldn't figure out why I was trusting all of this to Malfoy. He's probably just putting on an act here. In a few minutes, he's going to get up and go tell all of his Slytherin cronies just how pathetic I was being.

I waited.

To my great surprise, nothing happened. He had stopped tracing by now, and was instead looking deep within my eyes, as if trying to reach my soul. I threw up my own personal boundaries. I didn't want anyone seeing what was lurking down there. Ever. Even I had a hard time believing it. I usually just shut it out, alienated myself from it until it died down.

"Listen, Malfoy," I started.

"It's Draco," he told me quietly.

"What?" I asked him, confused as to what was happening. Was he asking me to call him by his first name? But, we never did that. Ever.

"My name isn't Malfoy. It's Draco," he said to me, his gaze sincere.

I took a deep breath and continued. "Alright. Draco, what-what does this make us now?" I asked. I honestly wanted to know. I mean, if I didn't know, he had to. "Are we friends, or enemies, or something else? And if we're something else, then what is that something?"

He smiled at me and my heart skipped a beat. That smile was just so beautiful. It made him look so peaceful. "We're whatever you want us to be, Harry." Bastard. Of course he put it back on me. I mean, what are Slytherins good - wait. Did he just call me Harry? What the hell?

"I-um, I d-don't, I mean, I-," he cut me off by putting one warm finger to my lips. He leaned in slowly and kissed me. I let him and even kissed back. Holy fucking Hell. I just kissed Malfoy. And that's not even the worst of it. I – I liked it. Surprisingly though, I didn't feel as disgusted as I thought I would. I actually felt an emotion I hadn't felt in ages. I felt happy.

"So what are we?" he asked, gazing into my eyes again. My breath caught in my throat for a brief minute. I wasn't sure what we were. As far as I was concerned, I still couldn't trust him. Or anyone else for that matter. But I wanted whatever relationship we had developed to continue.

"I think we're together," I smiled at him, biting my lip nervously. Oh Lord, please. You've put me through enough shit in my life. Give me this one good thing. Even if it's the last good thing I ever get, I'll be grateful.

He gave me a small smile before standing. He reached down to offer me his hand. I took it, but I didn't let go once I was standing. Fortunately, he didn't seem to care. My heart was still hammering against my ribcage, threatening to burst and send me into cardiac arrest. Was this going to end as badly as my last few relationships had? With the exception of Seamus, all the others had been muggles. In fact, Seamus had been the first wizard I'd fallen in love with. Sure, there'd been Ginny but she doesn't really count. I didn't really love her. Well, I did, but I wasn't in love with her, you know?

Draco and I walked to the Castle together, abandoning our brooms on the Pitch. I sighed inwardly. I can't believe I'm doing this again. And so soon after breaking up with Seamus. Oh God. What's everyone going to say? How are Ron and Hermione going to react? I mean, they don't even know I'm gay! What are they going to say when they see me walk in holding hands with Malf - Draco? They're going to flip. Oh God.

I inhaled deeply as we entered through the giant oak doors. Several heads turned. And even more had their mouths agape as the two of us strolled through the halls toward Gryffindor Tower. We managed to make it up there without being stopped and questioned. As soon as we reached the Portrait Hole, though, the Fat Lady was intent on knowing exactly what we were up to.

"What are you doing with that dirty little Slytherin?" she demanded, her voice shrill. I almost rolled my eyes at her, but then I remembered just how sensitive she could get at times. I decided it would be best to just be kind and sweet to her, even though I really wasn't in the mood to deal with her melodrama.

"We are just going in to speak with Hermione and Ron. And the password is Banana Lollies. Now, may we enter?" I said it in as calmly sweet a voice as I could. She glared at me briefly before swinging open with a huff. I rolled my eyes this time. She could be such a stubborn bitch sometimes!

We entered and several heads looked up. To my horror, Seamus was among them. He gave me a pained smile and I couldn't help but feel guilty. I squeezed Draco's hand a little for stability because I didn't think I'd be able to explain this alone. He answered me with a gentle smile. At least I knew he was on my side.

Dean walked up to us, glaring at Draco. "What the hell is he doing here?" he demanded, pointing at Draco furiously. I almost slapped him. Where did he get off being all pissed off at me for having a damn boyfriend? It wasn't any of his fucking business to begin with!

"He's with me," I told him forcefully. I was not going to explain myself to this git.

"Well I can see that!" He exclaimed. The entire Common Room was focusing on us now. Seamus had walked up and stood beside Dean. Oh Lord. I don't know if I can deal with Seamus. Just looking at the pained expression on his beautiful face stung. It stung like Hell. I loved Seamus. And I always would. But with Draco, it was different than it was with Seamus. With Seamus it was fun and spontaneous, but there wasn't very much in common. Sure, we liked the same Quidditch team, and we thought the same celebrities were sexy, but nothing deep. Nothing meaningful. With Draco, it was scary and nerve-wracking, but we shared something that I would never share with Seamus. Or anyone else for that matter.

"Listen, I need to talk to Ron and Hermione. That's all. So if your interrogation is complete, I'm going up to the dorm." I started walking toward the stairs when I felt Draco being pulled suddenly to the side. I whipped my head around to see Dean holding Draco's arm. I saw Draco tense and I knew he was forcing himself not to hex Dean into oblivion.

"He is not going into my dorm," Dean told me forcefully. My hand instinctively clasped my wand, and I had to dig my nails into my palm to prevent myself from sending Dean flying. He was still my friend after all. And after you curse someone, they tend to want nothing to do with you anymore.

"You seem to forget that it's a dorm shared by five of us. He won't go anywhere near your damn bed, now let go," I said to him heatedly, barely able to keep myself from snarling. Why was I so damn angry? I felt something deep down in my soul begin to spread through my entire body. The anger it was emanating was tremendous, and I was barely able to keep myself from screaming. The only reason the Common Room was still in one piece was because I was biting the inside of my lip. Even though I could taste the blood, I didn't let up.

"I am not letting go. He is NOT going in there. He shouldn't even be in here to begin with! This isn't his Common Room, Harry. It's ours! Why would you even let a Slytherin in here to begin with?!" He sounded like he could have been pissed off. I couldn't really hear him, though. The anger was boiling over and causing my ears to ring something dreadful. Everything anyone said sounded as if it were traveling through water to get to me.

"First of all, HE has a damn name. Second of all, I am allowed in here because I'm with Harry. Either deal with that or go cry to your damn mum. I don't care which you choose, but you are letting go of my arm or I'm going to blow you to fucking Herbology." It was Draco. He sounded so distant. My vision was clouding and my head was throbbing. I could barely stay standing.

I saw Dean's lips move, but I was beyond being able to hear. My vision swam black, and my head felt as if it were splitting open. I let out what I hoped was an obnoxiously loud scream. I needed help. I don't know if anyone heard me, though, as I proceeded to pass out, visions of Dean being butchered being the last things I saw.

OoOoO

When I woke up, I was staring at white curtains. It smelled oddly of licorice and I tried to sit up. However, as soon as I did, my vision swam and my head throbbed. So I just remained sitting. How'd I get here? Where was here anyway? Was I in the hospital? The last thing I remembered was standing in the Gryffindor Common Room with Draco as Dean was lecturing me on something or other. Or something to that effect anyway.

"Madame Pomphrey, he's awake!" I heard someone exclaim from beside me. I turned my head and saw Ron and Hermione sitting there, grinning. Hermione's eyes were red and puffy, and she looked as if she'd been crying for a while. Ron looked like he'd been comforting her. The stain on the front of his shirt confirmed my suspicions. I looked around, but I didn't see Draco. My heart sank immediately.

"He'll be right back," Hermione said to me, her voice thick with sadness. "He just went to use the bathroom. He's been by your side every minute of every day since you collapsed, you know."

Every minute of every day? How long had I been out? "What do you mean?" I asked her, trying to sit up again. This time I succeeded, and my head only throbbed briefly. At least Draco would be back soon. Then I'd get to hold him again.

"Harry," It was Ron. Madame Pomphrey had run over and was inspecting me while Ron talked. "You've been in here for weeks. When you collapsed, your head fell through the glass table. 'Mione and I came running when we heard the crash. There was blood everywhere. Malfoy was holding you and crying. He ran to the Hospital Wing, carrying you the whole way. We followed him here. After he gave you to Madame Pomphrey and told her what happened, he told us the whole story. About how you two had talked over your differences while sitting in front of the Lake and how you had gone back to the Common Room with him to talk to us, and how Dean wouldn't let you up."

I let out an inward sigh of relief. At least Draco didn't tell them what we had talked about in the Pitch. At that moment, I heard the doors open. In a few seconds, I saw his beautiful blonde head turn the corner to my bed area. He stopped dead in his tracks, as if he couldn't believe that I was alive. Then he ran over and gave me a hug. It was only when he pulled away that I realized he was crying. I suspect he'd done a lot of that over the past few weeks.

Weeks. I have been out for weeks. It almost didn't seem possible. Everything seemed normal. Nothing seemed different, really. Except that I was lying in a hospital bed with my head wrapped up in a giant bandage. Now that I think of it, that bandage itched something fierce. I went to scratch my head, but Madame Pomphrey was already in the process of removing it.

"What happened to make you collapse, though, Harry?" It was Hermione. Her voice was full of concern. All three of them were looking at me intently. How could I explain it, though? I mean, I didn't even really know. All I knew was that anger had completely taken over. But I'd felt that way before. When I was battling Voldemort and he'd entered my mind. I gasped when I realized what had happened.

"He's not gone," I muttered. "He's not gone."


	4. Time For A Good Old Fashioned Relapse

**A/N: Hm. My reviewers are absolutely spectacular. I mean, honestly, I love you all for leaving me such nice comments. Please don't stop, as I truly appreciate it. Anyhoo, this chapter contains lots of angst, a little smut, some terrible relapsing, and a wee bit of fluffiness at the end. I really do love this chapter. Enjoy! (:**

Time For A Good Old Fashioned Relapse

OoO

"Who's not gone?" Ron asked me, confused. He probably thought I had gone off my rocker. I wasn't even sure I hadn't. This was so weird. So surreal.

"Voldemort," I told them hoarsely. Madame Pomphrey had already left, which I'd just noticed. All three of them looked at me thoughtfully.

"Harry," It was Hermione. Her voice sounded like a damn psychiatrist's. "I think you're still a little confused from the incident. We took out all of the Horcruxes. And you defeated him. Remember?"

I shook my head at her furiously. "I know, Hermione. I was there. But, you don't understand, he's, he's inside me," I told them quickly, swallowing hard. Was this real? Could it be real?

"What do you mean he's inside you?" Draco demanded, sounding concerned. He looked so cute when he was concerned. Wait, focus Harry!

"I mean, in that final battle, he entered my mind. I don't know. It wasn't for very long or anything, but I think he made one last horcrux. I think he knew he was about to lose that battle, so he planted a part of himself inside of me. At least that way, even when I defeated him, he would still be alive. And now, the only way to truly defeat him…" I trailed off, fighting back tears. Either kill myself or allow Voldemort to live. There had to be another option. There had to be!

"Harry, why didn't you tell us this before?" Hermione asked me, looking exasperated. Stupid bitch. She's upset? How the hell does she have the right to be upset? She's not the one who has to fucking die! Oh wait. Oh God. It's happening again. Stop. Stop thinking like that!

"I didn't think it was important!" I exclaimed, trying to calm myself down. It was nobody's fault. Nobody's. I needed my release. I can't shield myself without my damn release!

I jumped out of bed and ran for the door. I didn't hear footsteps behind me, so I assumed they had let me go. I rounded the corner of the Grand Staircase and started sprinting up, three stairs at a time. I finally made it to the Portrait Hole and I clutched my side. It was absolutely throbbing without mercy. I could hardly breathe. I stood there for about five minutes before the pain subsided.

"Open, please," I breathed desperately. She must have realized that I was alone and that I wouldn't last much longer just standing there, so she swung open. "And change the password. That Slytherin knows it and is going to try to find me," I added quickly. I hurried inside and saw several alarmed faces look up at me. I didn't care. I took the stairs two at a time until I reached my dorm. Relieved to see it empty, I slammed the door shut and magically locked it.

I ran over to my nightstand. I slammed the top drawer open, ripping it from the stand. Furiously anxious, I dumped the entire contents of the drawer on my bed and sifted through it until I found the delicious piece of metal I'd been searching for.

I gripped it tightly between my thumb and forefinger and reveled at how great it felt to be holding that cold, smooth blade in my hand once again. The need for release was becoming too much to take, and I raked it across my flesh, a steady stream of blood following my hand.

Almost instantaneously, I felt all emotion leave through that tiny opening. I was left with just an empty shell. There was nothing. I felt nothing. Some would say I had been numb, but that's not true. Every emotion that entered by body was soon expelled along with the river of blood streaming down my arm. The drops landed on my bed sheets with soft plops. It felt great. I counted each drop as it fell from my arm.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

The door to the dorm flew open, crashing against the wall.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

"HARRY!" Hermione yelled, running over to my bed.

11.

12.

13.

My arm was wrapped in the bed sheet, the thirteen small red dots glistening in the light. I looked at them and seemed to get lost in them. Such a nice color. So deep, so meaningful. So addicting.

I could hear voices all around me, talking to me and each other. They're probably trying to figure out what's going on. I wonder if Draco's here. He'd understand. But I honestly can't see Hermione letting him in here. Oh well. I wasn't really listening to what they were saying. I was trying to dive into one of those luscious drops with my mind. To submerge myself in their tangy powers. I never wanted to feel. Ever. All feelings brought were hurt. And I didn't want to hurt anymore.

Finally, my head was turned toward someone. I didn't recognize the person at first because of how worried and disheveled he looked. Then I met those eyes. Those stone grey eyes that spoke more words than anything. And just like that, I was brought back down from euphoria and put back into the hellhole of reality. I could hear what everyone was saying now.

"Is he dying?" Dean.

"Oh Lord, he's gone mental!" Ron.

"Shut up Ron! He's not crazy. He's just a little more depressed than we thought!" Hermione.

"Depressed? What has he got to be depressed about?" Ginny. Hm. Never thought she'd be up here.

"Loads. I mean, come on, he did just have that psycho episode back in the Hospital. You heard him – he thinks You-Know-Who's inside him!" Ron again. For a best friend, he seems intent on convincing everyone that I am crazy.

I suddenly felt someone carrying me. All of the voices stopped. All of them. I closed my eyes, trying to fall back into euphoria, trying to travel along the pulse that made me bleed a little more each time it reached that blessed cut.

"Where are you taking him?" Hermione demanded, her voice shrill. Oh Lord, I hated it when women did that. It was so damn annoying.

"Away from all this noise. It's not helping." I felt the words before I heard them. Draco. My beautiful blonde Draco. He was taking me away from all of these awful people. Well, they were pretty okay, but they were awful right now because they stopped me from getting the full release. Damn them all to Hell.

"You're not taking him anywhere!" It was Ginny. I suppose she knew about us and was just a little jealous of the whole thing. At least, that's the way I looked at it.

"Ginny's right, you can't just leave with him. He needs medical help," It was Hermione again, trying to tell everyone what was best for me again. She could be so frustrating sometimes. I mean, damn. If I wanted to go back to the fucking hospital, I would. But as it was, I was perfectly happy to be in the strong, warm arms of Draco.

"No, he doesn't. He's fine. Or at least, he will be soon. Now I'm leaving with him and you aren't going to follow me." It wasn't a request from my savior, but a command. I could sense the protest before it even happened.

"And how are you going to stop us?" Ron demanded. Just leave me be, Ron. God. I'm a big boy and I don't need your damn protection all the time.

"I know a few good spells that'll do the trick if it comes down to that, but I was hoping you would just stop acting like I'm some sort of assassin and just trust me enough to take care of him." His voice was cold and annoyed. I could sense how upset he was. I didn't blame him, though. My friends could be so fucking stubborn sometimes.

"Let him go." It was Seamus. I think he was addressing the rest of them.

"But Shay, how do we know Malfoy's not going to just try to kill Harry?" Hermione. Damn, she had a mouth. And a big one. Come on, Seamus. Convince them. Please. I'm starting to get a fucking headache.

"Listen, Harry trusts him. And no matter what we think, he's not going to stop trusting him. We should respect his choices and let Malfoy try to help him. It's not going to do any more damage than what's already been done anyway. Besides, Harry's supposed to be your friend. How would he feel if he was lucid enough to hear what you guys keep saying? For whatever reason, he loves Malfoy. He wouldn't just randomly fall in love with someone he didn't think was perfectly capable of taking care of him. We all know that much. So just back off and let them go."

Yay Seamus. Although, I am definitely lucid enough to hear and understand what everyone's saying. I just don't feel like talking. If I talk, the connection is gone. As it is, I still feel nothing. And that's much better than feeling pissed off at my so-called friends for being a bunch of arsefaces.

"Alright," Hermione sighed, sounding more than unhappy about actually complying with Seamus's verbal (and my nonverbal) request. I was honestly surprised, but more than relieved. Draco didn't stick around to wait for anyone to change their minds. He was carrying me down the familiar steps and into the licorice smelling Common Room. Damn, everything smelled like licorice nowadays. I hate that smell. It makes me want to vomit.

Before I even knew what was happening, the salty smell of the Lake flew up my nostrils. Okay, don't laugh, but the smell of salt water turns me on. It reminds me of the beach, which was where I'd had my first…'experience'. Ever since then, anytime I'd go anywhere near salt water, I'd get a damn hard-on. Even if I was with Ron and Hermione. Needless to say, I avoided the Lake as much as possible.

Anyway, I gasped a little as my body was placed gently on the cold earth. I didn't realize how much I had grown used to that warm embrace until it was separated from me. Hm. That sucks. Sucking. Draco sucking me off. Oh Lord. No! Stop those thoughts!

"Harry, what happened?" The question was direct and gentle, yet it demanded an answer. I wasn't sure what had happened exactly. All I knew was that my need for release trumped all progress I had made, and I relapsed.

"I-I don't know," I told him quietly. Even though I knew this was meant to be a serious time, I couldn't help but notice the rising member that resided in my pants. I tried breathing deeply, but that just made it worse. So I stopped breathing.

I could feel those strong, gentle hands gliding over my body. I could smell that intoxicating aroma floating off his skin and diving up my nose. (Yes, up, not down. UP). Those toned, muscular legs wrapped around my waist, eliciting a throat-wrenching moan from my sweaty body. Both of us screaming in pleasure as our erections brush against each other…NO! Stop thinking of that! You are here for a serious conversation about how you relapsed and cut yourself after swearing off it. You are NOT here to fuck Draco senseless, however appealing that may be! Remember Voldemort? He's inside you! By fucking Draco, you're letting Voldemort fuck him too! Do you really want to share your beautiful dragon with that prick? No! So focus!

"Listen, I'm not mad at you. I promise. But, be honest, are you okay?" he sounded concerned. Of course I was okay! Damn, what the hell? I mean, seriously, if I wasn't fucking okay, would I still be conscious and sitting here talking to him? NO! So why is everyone so concerned about whether or not I'm 'okay'?! It's starting to piss me off!

"Yes, I'm fan - fucking – tastic," I told him sarcastically, trying to keep the venom from my voice. From the hurt look on his face, I assumed I had failed. Oh well. His problem, not mine. Damn fool. Wait, this is Draco we're talking about. Remember? The person I love with all my heart? He is not the enemy here. And he'll never be the enemy. At least, not my enemy. Not anymore.

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure," he said quietly, turning away from me. I did something that would have seemed odd in this situation had somebody else been doing it. (And by doing it, I do not mean having sex, you dirty little pervert).

I leaned over to him and kissed his soft lips forcefully. He hesitated at first, but eventually, he kissed back. I knew he wanted to, but was just too afraid of fucking things up. I didn't care at that moment. My lust had gotten the better of me, and I soon found myself straddling him. He soon realized just how much I wanted this and began to panic. I immediately got off, remembering his traumatic experiences with sex. I silently cursed myself for being so damn stupid. Then I cursed my damn cock for wanting this so badly, knowing Draco would have a problem with it.

"I am so sorry," I breathed, leaning forward again. I didn't kiss him this time, but I wrapped him in a tight embrace. His body was shaking, and I felt even worse because of it. I felt tears start to well up in my eyes, and before I could stop them, they began gliding down my flushed cheeks. I cursed myself furiously, realizing just how much of an insensitive prick I'd just been. Of course he wasn't ready for this. He might never be ready for it. And that was something I'd just have to live with, no matter how boring my hand got. I was prepared to make that sacrifice for him. Well, I hoped I was anyway.

"No, don't be sorry," he told me, pulling away and looking me in the eyes. I could tell my tears hurt him. He should be crying, and I'm sitting here like a blubbering little girl. How fucking pathetic could I get?

"But I am," I told him through the tears. "I should never have tried anything. I knew about your dad, and I did it anyway. I am such a whore." I couldn't stand looking in his beautiful eyes anymore, so I looked away. I instead fixed my gaze on the churning waters of the Lake. I had a brief flashback to fourth year when I was swimming in that deep pit. Back then, the only thing I cared about was Ron and Hermione. I hadn't even realized that I was gay, or had a real girlfriend for that matter. Now, if they had to take my most treasured person, it would be my dragon I'd be rescuing.

I felt his nimble fingers on my cheek, but I still refused to look at him. How could I? "I love you," he whispered, sounding as though he were doing so through tears. I whipped my head around and looked at him as if he'd just grown a second arse.

"You what?" I asked, sounding a lot more surprised than I had intended. If he loved me, then maybe all hope wasn't lost. Maybe he still wanted to be with me. I mean, you couldn't love someone and find them utterly repulsive at the same time, right? So maybe I still had a shot here.

"I love you. With all my heart. I think I've always loved you. At least, in some way. Even when we were just eleven and you turned down my handshake. Even then I loved you." His words were like caressing fingers on my torso all over again. He smiled and laughed a little. "That one little handshake is what made me realize how much of an arse I was. Ever since then, I always tried to get you to notice me. I would humiliate little first years, or act like shit toward you and your friends, or even join the damned Death Eaters just so you would notice me."

I was shocked. "Really? But, that's funny. I mean, I'd always tried to get you to notice me. I mean, I hadn't done it on purpose until a few days ago, but subconsciously, I've always wanted you to notice me. In first year, when I turned down your handshake, it wasn't because I didn't want to be your friend. It was because I was hiding. I've been hiding my entire life. I have remained in my solitary prison, waiting for someone to come along with the key. Waiting for someone to care enough to look for me. Wanting to leave, but never knowing how to. I had locked myself inside when I was about three, and had chucked the damn key out the window. I always wanted to believe that someone would just find it as they walked by, and at least be curious enough to want to know what it unlocked. But nobody found it. And nobody released me. Until those few nights ago. I opened up to you, and even I wasn't sure why. Then I realized the reason. You found me."

He smiled at me, tears still pouring out of his eyes, and hugged me. I was still crying, too, but it didn't matter. I finally had my Knight In Shining Armor. I had my Dragon.

I had been found.


	5. Conversations With The Voice In My Head

**A/N: I was really sad to see only like two or three reviews for the last chapter. Guys, even if it's something negative, I still want a review. I mean, I'm a writer, I can take the criticism. Anyway, sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I had major writer's block last night. This chapter may be a bit confusing, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask. Enjoy the chapter! (:**

Conversations With The Voice In My Head

OoO

The next day, I was confronted with concerned glances and questions galore. I mean, who knew getting caught cutting yourself would create such a huge amount of drama? Oh well. I dealt with it happily. I could be asked a thousand times over why I did what I did and nobody understood. Except one. And I finally had that one person that not only understood it, he did it, too. So I wasn't judged by him.

It was bloody brilliant.

Of course, Hermione still thought I needed psychiatric help. She was absolutely convinced there was something mentally wrong with me. Granted, there probably was, but I would never admit that out loud. Still, she insisted I see Madame Pomphrey. Just to make her shut up, I did. And Hermione was right; Madame Pomphrey found me mentally unstable. She told me to take a potion every morning as soon as I woke up and every night before I went to bed. I, of course, told her I would be a good little boy and take it. And I did. For about a week. Nothing changed, and the damn potion kept making me exhausted so I said fuck it. I don't take them anymore, and I don't feel any crazier.

Anyway, so I was heading to Potions, hand-in-hand with Draco. Everyone was pretty much used to our public displays of affection, but they still thought it was weird. We didn't care, though, and we still walked to classes attached to each other in some way or another. I hadn't relapsed since that night nearly two months ago, and I actually never felt better. Though I was starting to think Draco might have a drinking problem. I'll have to confront him about that later, though. For now, we had to just deal with Snape.

In all honesty, our potion that had brought us together in the first place was a hit. It helped relieve anxiety and depression, so we didn't really have to test it out. Snape gave us an 'O' and everyone wanted a sample. We gave all of it away, not remembering anything about how to brew another batch. We really didn't want to use it on ourselves anyway.

The two of us walked into the icy, stone classroom and took our usual back seats. We sat there, chatting about useless things when I saw the marks on his arm. He had sworn off his addiction the night I relapsed, so I wouldn't be tempted to start up again. I wasn't mad at him for relapsing; just a little hurt that he didn't trust me enough to confide that in me.

"Hey Dray," I asked him softly. "What are scratches doing on your arm?"

He blushed quickly. "Harry, I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get upset. Please say you're not mad at me?" He was asking me. I wasn't mad at him, so answering honestly wasn't too difficult.

"I'm not mad at you, babe. I just wish you would have told me. What happened anyway?" I said, grasping his hand gently, but firmly. I didn't want him to think I was mad at him, but I needed to understand why he didn't have faith in me.

He sighed, looking away. "It was with Snape. You know he's my godfather and all, but there's more to it. Since my father started…you know, he well, I sort of turned to him to be my father figure. He doesn't know why, he just knows my father abuses me in some way. Well, anyway, like all good fathers, he doesn't approve of our dating. He says that you're a loose cannon and that you'll just end up fucking me and chucking me. I told him that it was ridiculous to think of you in that sense, but he didn't want to hear it. He said either I stopped seeing you, or he'd stop taking care of me. So I told him that it was the last time I'd ever ask him for help."

I honestly think I'd stopped breathing. So that's how Snape felt? Damn, and I actually saved the poor bastard's life. Why'd I do that anyway? He is definitely not worth it. After all, he loved my mum, not me. Oh Lord. Snape loving me? Now that's just disgusting. I mean, all that greasy hair and that absolutely pasty skin and just ew. Why would I even think like that? It's just so horrible! I am starting to think I may have problems.

"Listen Dray," I said to him softly, turning his head back around to face me. "No matter what Snape or anybody else for that matter says, I'll always love you. Okay?" I wasn't sure if I was helping him or hurting him. All I knew was that I wanted him to calm down before class started. Whenever he got upset, he usually started crying. Which would be pretty difficult to explain. Not to mention, Snape would probably just make me explain it out loud so the whole class could have a laugh. He is such a fucking prick.

He nodded and smiled a little. I wrapped him in a tight hug just as Snape slammed the door to the classroom shut.

"Fifty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor for unsightly public displays of affection."

The voice made my blood boil. I let go of Draco and turned to the front of the class, breathing deeply and trying to calm myself. I definitely did not want a reoccurrence of that night in the Common Room. That would be scary.

"Are you frightened, Mr. Potter?" Snape drawled, looking down that damn crooked nose of his. I just wanted to straighten it for him. Just one quick, fluid punch would do the trick.

I looked him straight in the eye. "I'm perfectly fine, Snape. But you yourself seem a bit perplexed. Did your Hangover Cure not work correctly this morning?" It wasn't until after I had spoken the words that I realized they had even left my mouth. Oh, great. Now I'm going to have to deal with a damn detention. Probably for Thursday evening. That's when I had the Pitch booked for practice, and Snape had this obsession with making me miss practice.

His face twisted into a snarl. "Very well, Mr. Potter. If you are going to make smart comments, then I suppose you will have a very productive time helping Mr. Filch clean out the bathrooms in detention this-," he started saying. I felt the need to cut him off. I was already screwed, so it couldn't hurt, right? And besides, I wasn't thinking clearly anyway.

"What? This Thursday? Hm. How very creative of you, Snape. You know your damn team can't beat us, so you're trying to rig the match by taking away the captain? Well, I am sorry to have to inform you of these most shocking events, but your team still sucks. The only decent player would be the captain, and no matter how skilled he may be, he can't perform the actions of an entire Quidditch team."

"Mr. Potter, your disrespectful attitude has earned you a seat in detention for this Saturday," he told me, his snarl turning into a smirk. He thought that by taking me out of the game, my team would fall apart? He's stupider than I thought.

I smirked right back at him. "You know, for someone whose life I so graciously saved even after years of torture and mistreatment, you sure as Hell have a strange way of showing your gratitude. Or maybe you're just pissed off at me for finally finding happiness? I mean, as long as I'm with Draco, nothing you ever do seems to bother me. But you need that. You feed off of others' unhappiness. Or maybe it's just me? Maybe it's only my unhappiness you care about? I mean, my mother did basically tell you to fuck off while she went and married my dad, who happened to be one of your worst enemies. But I bet you remember that all the time. How she ditched you for a man that was overly obnoxious and that made your life a fucking hell. I'm sure you loved that. Tell me, Snape, do you jack off to that memory? Because I am absolutely positive that that's the only way you'd ever have your release. Am I right?"

I was challenging him. I wanted him to strike, so I could strike back. So I could finish the thing I'd stopped from being finished in the first place. I would love to just grab the nearest carving knife and gut the bastard right here, in the middle of the room. Oh, how fun that would be.

His face had gone red with fury. That much was painfully obvious. I could tell he wanted to hex me. Apparently, this job meant something to him, though, so he held off.

"Go on. Do it. You know you want to. It'll all be over in just a couple of seconds, and I'll finally be out of your hair. Just one quick flick and it's all finished." I was goading him, trying to provoke an attack out of him. I had very little faith that it would work, but I had to try.

Snape's hand twitched inside his pocket for a brief second before his face calmed and lost color again. Damn. It hadn't worked. Now where was I supposed get my fun?

"Mr. Potter, my office, now." The demand was quiet and almost fearful. Fear? From Snape? Something wasn't right. I stood and followed him into his office, Draco on my tail. It was just like Draco to want to protect me, no matter the consequences. That was a comforting feeling.

Draco entered last, shut the door, and cast a silencing charm on the whole office. He didn't seem to notice (or care for that matter) that Snape was sneering at him. However, upon turning around, the discontent of having the two in the same office became obvious.

"I do not believe I called you in here, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said coldly. I reached over and slapped him. Hard. Of course, that didn't earn me any points with him, but he was pissing me off.

"You are such a pathetic little worm of a human being, Snape. Disowning a child you chose to take in just because you don't like his boyfriend? How heartless can you fucking be?" Oh, boy. I needed to calm down. My temple was throbbing, something that had happened that fateful night so long ago in the Common Room.

"I will have you know that I did not choose to become Mr. Malfoy's adopted father," Snape told me, rather annoyed. I scoffed at him. Fucking coward.

"Oh? Then why the hell did you keep acting like you liked taking care of him?" I demanded, crossing my arms in front of me. Damn, didn't I look like a stereotype?

Snape glared at me, his dark eyes barely slits. "I would care to inform you, Potter, that my relationship with Mr. Malfoy was as it needed to be." Some explanation.

"Well, aren't you a Goddamn saint then, huh? To take in an abused child, treat him as if you actually cared, then throw him to the curb when he actually needs you? Of course, it was as it needed to be, though. Because you, Severus Snape, are nothing other than a professional. You are not a compassionate man, nor are you a generous one. You don't care about anyone other than yourself, and you wouldn't know love if it came up and bit you in the arse. But none of that matters, does it? As long as you aren't blamed for you incompetency, who cares about the result?" I had toned my voice down, and my temple had calmed, for the time being at least.

"You wouldn't understand," he muttered, looking at Draco briefly before turning his attention back to me. "It isn't as simple as you seem so keen on believing it to be."

"Oh really? Then why don't you explain it?" I asked, wrapping my arm around Draco's waist and pulling him close. My feet were starting to ache, so I sat down, pulling him down onto my lap. He didn't complain, but I sensed he was uncomfortable. I removed my hand and allowed Snape to continue, leaving Draco ample room if he wanted to move.

Snape sighed and sat in his own chair. "Alright, Potter, but it is a rather droll story." I gave him a slight nod and he began. "When Draco was young, probably about thirteen I'd say, his father got a bit drunk one evening. I just so happened to be his drinking companion. He confided in me something that made me want to vomit, but I could not confront him on the actual issue, lest my cover be blown. Instead, I took the next best course of action. I adopted Draco. Not legally, but I made it known that he could turn to me if he needed to. Then in his sixth year, his mother and I made an Unbreakable Vow saying I was to protect Draco at all costs. That year I protected him with my life. I continued to do so this year, until he started behaving recklessly. He made it known to all not only that he was a homosexual, but also that he was dating 'The Golden Boy'. Voldemort may be dead, but his followers aren't. Draco was once one of those followers, and the rest of them know it. They also see you as an enemy, Potter. Having a gay man amongst your highest ranks is bad enough, but to know that he is intimate with the enemy is treason. I told him to stop seeing you for his own safety."

I almost slapped him again. However, I restrained myself. "His own safety? Listen, I respect you looking out for him, but there is no way in Hell I am going to let a pack of bloodthirsty animals take the only good thing in my life. You should know that once I am protecting something, it stays protected. Period."

"Yes, Potter, it usually remains protected. But it also becomes much more highly sought out, and it sustains sometimes-irreparable damage. There is no way I can sit idly by and watch another thing slip through your fingers and become damaged. Sorry, Potter. But I won't allow it." He made me laugh out loud bitterly.

"You won't allow it?" I demanded. "And how the fuck are you going to stop me from protecting that which I love? What, are you going to ban inter-house dating? God Snape. You can be such a damn moron at times."

"Love? You know nothing of love," he snarled at me. I could feel my anger rising again. I was about to retort when Draco spoke for the first time since we entered the damn office.

"Will you two just shut up?!" he screamed, standing. He had silent tears running down his pale cheeks, the water glistening even in the dim lighting of the room. "I am not a 'thing' and I don't need protection! I was just fine before either of you decided to start helping, and I'll be fine even after you leave!"

I felt my throat close up. This was a hell of a way to break up with a guy. It was probably the most painful of a way, too. Damn you Malfoy. I knew this would happen. And I let it anyway. I fell for you. I fell hard. And what do you do? You kick me while I'm down. Well fuck you.

I stood and furiously left the room. I practically ran up the flight of stairs and again up the Grand Staircase. I knew if I retreated to my Common Room, anyone could find me. But I needed my release. I needed it more than I've ever needed it. I needed it before the anger kicked in and before the tears started streaming.

I made it to the front of the wall and paced in front of it three times. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared, and I slammed the door open. I was barely inside before my barricades failed and tears were streaming down my cheeks. Why did I leave myself open to this?

_Because you were a fool._

What the hell? I sunk to the ground, bringing my knees to my chest. I was sobbing into the denim of my jeans when the voice in my head spoke again.

_You were a fool._

Who are you? How are you talking to me?

_I am exactly who you thought I was. I am the last remaining piece of Lord Voldemort. You were right, Harry. The only way to destroy me is to kill yourself. And now you have no reason left to live. So do it, Harry. Destroy me._

I grabbed the razor that was somehow at my side. I brought it to the lightly colored skin of my wrist and dragged it downward, toward my heart. I could feel the gush of blood as I dug the blade deeper and deeper, trying to hit an artery. I suddenly felt dizzy. I dropped the blade and collapsed, blackness swimming in front of me. I remember hearing a distant door open and voices screaming. But they weren't loud. They sounded far away, like the voices of some loud kid halfway down the beach.

The last thing I remembered though, was the relief of finally being able to leave.


	6. Dreams Of The Future

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update guys. I was busy the last couple days, and I haven't really had time to write. Anyway, fantastic show of support on the last chapter! 15 reviews! That is absolutely fantabulous! (: I really hope you guys review as much on this chapter, as I was elated when I saw the number of reviews for the last one. By the way, it will be obvious when the story is over. Either the title of the chapter will say it, or my author's note will. So don't worry about that. (: **

**A/N: BelhavenOnTap, your review cracked me up. Yes, a Voldemort Removal Tool would be very nice to have, and would probably serve to aid Harry graciously in this particular fic. XD**

**A/N: Alright, last chapter I couldn't get the italics to work properly, and I use them a lot in this one. So I REALLY hope they work. If not, I'll try and fix them, but no guarantees. If it is really too difficult to read, tell me in the review, and I'll think of something.**

**Alright. That's it. Enjoy the chapter!**

Dreams Of The Future Scare The Hell Out Of Me

OoO

Dying would have been a blessing. But God hated me, so I lived. In fact, I woke up in the Hospital Wing surrounded by flowers and blubbering idiots. I scanned the crowd of people who hadn't seemed to realize I was awake. No blondes. My heart sank. So we were through. I slammed my head back against the pillow, tears pouring out of my eyes. They finally seemed to notice, and one of them called for Madame Pomphrey.

I didn't care though. If he wasn't here, then nothing else mattered. Everything else was second to him. I went to move my arm so I could wipe my tears away, but I couldn't. Looking down, I noticed that my arms and legs were strapped down. Magical rope. I couldn't break free. Those damn bastards tied me down!

_Teach them a lesson._

Oh no. Not you. Go away! You're the reason I'm here in the first place!

_You are here because you tried to kill yourself and your 'friends' got to you before you lost enough blood to complete the task. It had nothing to do with me._

"Just go away!" I yelled, not realizing I had literally yelled it out. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to squirm free. I needed that damn razor. At least once I was dead, I wouldn't have to live with this.

_You don't want me to go away, Harry. You just want to die. Isn't that a little selfish? To leave your friends with the thought that they were the reason you did it. I mean, they would be mourning your death for years. The Prophet would have a field day and your friends would have to be the ones to correct that stupid paper. Would that be very fair?_

"No," I moaned, trying again to free myself of those restraints. "But I can't take it anymore. They don't need me; I'm useless. I just want to die."

_Of course you do, Harry. But instead of giving in to those wants, use them to fuel your need for power. You are not very different from me, you know. We both were abandoned as children, grew up with crappy childhoods, and have a desire for power. I just acted on that desire, and made it a way of life. You've destroyed me, and now you can be my successor. _

"NO!" I barked at the voice. "I won't be like you! I won't mindlessly kill thousands of people and leave their families to pick up the pieces! I came from a broken family BECAUSE OF YOU! You will NOT convince me to do that to another child. NOBODY deserves it!" I was absolutely hysterical. I was convulsing and sobbing. The crowd had backed away, afraid they might be hurt somehow.

Madame Pomphrey was sprinting to me. She held out a large needle with some sort of purple, bubbly liquid. She jammed it into my arm, sending a sharp pain through me. Whatever she injected though, caused me to feel sleepy. My eyelids drooped, and I couldn't keep them open anymore. I fell asleep.

OoOoO

The next time I awoke, I was in an empty Hospital Wing. Sitting in a chair, as stoic as possible while one is sobbing their heart out, was Draco. I felt so much better just knowing he was there. I wanted to say something, to ask what he had meant. But I was too afraid. I was too afraid that he didn't want to see me anymore for words to even be a damn possibility.

My voice found its way from my throat, despite my attempts at keeping it there. "Dray?" I knew I sounded scared and uncertain, but I couldn't help it. I was here because I thought he never wanted to see me again, and here I am opening up and leaving myself vulnerable. You know, I'm not the smartest person, huh?

He looked directly at me. His usually stone grey eyes were bloodshot, swollen and rimmed in red. His face was completely tear-stained, and he looked as if he hadn't eaten or slept in days. "H-Harry? Are you alright?"

The tone of his voice was shocking. It was cracked, full of melancholy and not at all arrogant or Slytherin-like. Shocking. Completely shocking. "I-I don't know, to be honest. I mean, what I did, it was," I couldn't finish the sentence without sounding absolutely crazy. I tried to kill myself because of the damn voice in my head. Nope, that doesn't sound at all like a crazy person.

"Just tell me. All of it." He looked determined. Well, sort of. I mean, he looked so sad that I barely saw past that. That was all that really mattered, you know? Every time I looked at him, I felt like crying. I inhaled deeply. "Okay. But don't interrupt, and promise not to judge." He gave me a slight nod. "Well, after you said that thing in Snape's office about you being fine when we left, I took that to mean you wanted to break up with me. So I ran to the Room of Requirement, looking for a place I could get my release in private. Well, once I got there, I was hysterical, and I curled up in a fetal position sort of. And that's when I heard him. I heard that voice in my head. He said he was Voldemort. He-He told me that I had nothing left to live for, and that I should just kill myself to destroy him. So I grabbed the razor that had just appeared by my side, and I started cutting, deep. Shit, half the razor had to be inside of my damn arm. I know it was selfish, but I just wanted it to be over. And then when I woke up earlier, I didn't see you, so I thought that you really had dumped me. Then Voldemort started talking to me again. He was saying that I was selfish. And then he was trying to get me to-to take his place. I told him that I would never do that. I guess I was screaming, because the last thing I remember is Madame Pomphrey injecting me with some weird, purple liquid."

He looked at me thoughtfully. Well, at least he wasn't saying I was crazy. Though, there was still plenty of time for that, mind you. He seemed to be contemplating something, but then again, when wasn't he contemplating something? Finally, his face showed more than just a pondering expression. There was actual emotion there, though I couldn't place it.

"Harry," he told me apologetically. So he did think I was crazy. Great. Now my maybe-boyfriend thinks I'm loony. Isn't that just fan-fucking-tastic? I knew I shouldn't have told him. I should have told him it was just another relapse. "I believe you."

What the hell?

"W-What?" I asked, completely dumbfounded. He believed me? Seriously believed me? That's hard to believe!

"I believe you. I know you wouldn't lie about something like that, and no matter what they say, I don't think you're crazy. I think that you're just someone whose been dealt a shitty hand, and you're still trying to make the best of it. I think that Voldemort may actually have planted another horcrux inside you. I mean, he always one to be a sore loser. But I also think that we need to talk to Snape. So you wait here and rest, and I'll go and fetch him," Draco told me softly. I smiled a little. Probably the first time in a long time. He bent over to give me a quick, passionate kiss. At least he was still in love with me.

I watched as he hurried in the direction of the door, longing filling my insides. I wasn't strapped down anymore, which was a definite relief. I turned onto my side and closed my eyes. I let sleep and dream wash over me, hoping they'd finally take me somewhere peaceful.

_I was walking through some sort of deserted street on an obvious winter day. The street was covered with snow and the crunch my boots made as I stepped forward, one foot at a time, echoed throughout the entire length of the glistening road. I didn't know where I was, but it looked vaguely familiar. I'd been here before, though I couldn't remember when._

_A slight breeze blew through, causing me to be alerted to a sign swaying in the distance. The sign was oak and made an awful creaking sound as its rusty hinges rubbed against each other. The lettering was faded, and almost impossible to read._

_Honeydukes. _

_Honeydukes? But this place is abandoned. This whole street is abandoned. This can't be Hogsmeade. There aren't any people! _

_I quickly ran around the street, peering in shop windows and reading signs. _

_The Three Broomsticks. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The Hog's Head. Even the Potion Outlet was deserted. That had just opened last year, though. What happened to this place?_

_Then I saw it. In the middle of the street was a tombstone. A giant, stone tombstone. I walked over to it, barely noticing an older blonde man kneeling in front of it. His head was bent and I could make out the name only on the tombstone._

_Harry James Potter. _

_My breath caught in my throat, and I could hardly stand without falling. My tombstone? But, I was alive! I was standing right in front of it! _

_The blonde man stood up. He turned toward me, and I caught his eyes. Stone grey eyes. Then he stepped forward, moving right through me, as if I were a ghost. Draco. Draco had been mourning me._

_I stepped closer to read the entire inscription._

_This tomb marks the final resting place of Harry James Potter, who committed suicide on the night of December 25, at the age of 23. _

_In front of the tomb was a copy of the Prophet, a picture of me collapsing on the front cover. There was an article underneath the picture._

_**Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and the defeater of the omnipotent oppressor, Tom Riddle Jr. (Or Lord Voldemort), collapsed today in front of Melville's Robe Shoppe while talking with Seamus Finnegan, his lover and best friend. Seamus tells the Prophet that he had absolutely no reason to suspect Harry of committing suicide. He says that Potter was happy, and that he was enjoying their time together. When asked about Mr. Potter's previous relationship with Draco Malfoy, Mr. Finnegan chose not to comment. He seemed rather resentful of Mr. Malfoy's relationship with his fiancée.**_

_**We asked Mr. Malfoy why he and Mr. Potter ended the relationship.**_

"_**Harry and I were far from a harmonious couple. We fought a lot in the years after graduation from Hogwarts. I kept trying to help him get over his post-traumatic depression, and he kept telling me that no such thing existed and that I was overreacting. I knew he was going to do something drastic to get away from his past one of these days. I tried to protect him from himself, but he didn't want to be helped. So he broke up with me and began dating Seamus."**_

_**We then asked Mr. Malfoy if he held any resentment toward Mr. Finnegan. He replied quickly,**_

"_**Seamus may dislike me, even hate me, for taking Harry from him in Seventh Year, but I hold no hard feelings for the man. In fact, I respect him for letting Harry go so easily. Though I hold no bitter feelings for him, I do think he was not watching Harry close enough. I warned him that Harry was unstable, and that he needed to keep an eye on him, but apparently Seamus didn't listen."**_

_**When asked how he thought Mr. Potter could have killed himself without leaving a trace of any substance or mark behind to indicate what precisely caused his death, Mr. Malfoy gave us a teary-eyed, bitter smile.**_

"_**Harry had a dark side that nobody, not even Seamus, saw. I only caught a glimpse of it once, in Seventh Year, around Christmas time, but that was enough to frighten me into believing he needed therapy of some sort. I never confronted Harry about the incident, though he knew I knew. There are many ways to kill yourself, as you all know, but there are only a select few spells that can accomplish the deed without leaving a trace of itself. The spells are best left unnamed, as they should not even exist in a society as advanced as our own. In my opinion, Harry mastered one of these spells and used it on himself." Mr. Malfoy paused for a minute and drifted off. He soon refocused and continued in a low, melancholy tone, "Harry's death wasn't something spontaneous. He had been dying for six years, and we were just too blind to see it progress. Nobody could fathom that their savior, their 'Golden Boy', was anything other than absolutely joyful, let alone suicidal. I wish I had kept a closer watch on Harry, that I'd been there for him when he needed a shoulder to cry on. He might still be here if I had."**_

_**At that time, Mr. Malfoy declined all other questions, leaving our office in tears.**_

_**The question I want answered is this: Was Harry James Potter, our savior from the darkness, the thing in which he had defeated so many years ago, or was he simply under pressure and cracked?**_

_I let the yellowed pages fall from my hands, choking back tears as the papers floated in all directions. Suicide? Seamus? This makes no sense!_

_Tears were falling silently as I looked up and down the deserted, snow-covered street once more. Draco. My poor dragon. I had abandoned him when all he had tried to do was help. I really didn't deserve him. And I never will…_

I awoke with a start, Snape and Draco hovering over my sweat-covered body. I realized that I had obviously been crying, and I quickly wiped the tears away. They were both looking down at me concernedly. Had I been thrashing about or something? Maybe I'd been mumbling the words from that damned dream Prophet. Oh, Lord I hope not. How would I explain that to Draco?

I inhaled deeply and looked at Snape. "Yes, sir?" I asked, too shocked, embarrassed, confused, sore, and so many other emotions that I can't even be bothered to name, to be rude.

"Mr. Malfoy tells me you believe the Dark Lord has implanted a piece of himself within you. Is this true?" His voice was almost gentle. God, something must have happened while they were watching me if Snape was being gentle. Now I was really worried.

I nodded, too weak to speak much. I inhaled deeply again, trying to calm my racing heart.

"If this is the case, you would not mind me asking you some questions after you have taken a vial of Veritiserum, only to ensure you aren't lying?" I would have slapped him had it not been for the fact that I was too weak to sit up, let alone generate enough strength to deliver a successful slap.

"With all due respect, sir, I do not believe I should have to take any potion for you to believe me. I would not lie about something this important, nor would I ever even suggest it as a possibility if I did not believe it to be completely true. If that is not enough, then I'm sorry for wasting your time."

I had to gulp down a few more breaths, feeling exhausted from that mini-speech. Snape looked down at me through careful eyes.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. For now, I will require you to take a vial of this," he held up a small flask of some sort of rainbow potion, "Every three hours. Have I made myself clear?"

I nodded as he unloaded a bag full of the potion onto my nightstand. One every three hours? Now that just sucked.

Snape turned and left, presumably to inform McGonagall of the most recent development. Draco stepped closer, and I could now see the tears glistening softly on his tender cheeks. He tried to smile through it, but he failed.

Looking at that beautiful man standing in front of me, I couldn't help but feel as if the dream were true. And if it was, I would abandon Draco in a few years. He would blame himself for my death, even if he wouldn't admit to it publicly. He would be left tattered and worn, beaten up and unwanted, all because I would be too stubborn to allow his aid. I am such a fucking prick!

How could I ever disown this loyal and most amazing man standing next to me in the hospital, grasping my hand reassuringly. He cares about me more than he cares about himself and his own health, and I'll end up abusing that. I'll end up exploiting it and using it to my advantage.

Unless I ended it all now. Before he had the chance to be broken, I could end it and give him the opportunity to seek out new wonders and to explore new and better possibilities. I was about to tell Draco how I felt when he surprised me by leaning forward and kissing me passionately.

"Harry," he whispered to me, detaching his lips from mine. "I need to tell you something."

I fought back tears. This was it. This was the end of the line. Draco was going to dump me, and I had absolutely no control over it. I nodded at him, all the approval he needed before continuing.

"I want you to know that I love you. Truly and deeply love you. I'd give my life if it meant saving yours. And I'd beat the shit out of anyone who tried to harm you. But I need two things from you, Harry. I need to know that you will always tell me if something is wrong, no matter how crazy or ridiculous it sounds. I don't care if you think the world is going to fucking blow up, but I want to know. And I need to know if the feelings are mutual." He looked at me imploringly.

It took me only a few moments to respond. I grabbed his hand and squeezed softly.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy."


	7. Terrifying Experiences During Christmas

**A/N: Oh my gosh. I am so sorry that I haven't updated. I've had a major bout of writer's block. I really hope this chapter isn't sucky because of it, but if it is, please tell me so I can re-write it. (: Anyway, kudos on the reviewing of the last chapter! 10 reviews total! That is truly phenomenal. I love you guys so much for reviewing. Alright, here's Chapter 7. Enjoy!**

Terrifying Experiences During Christmas Break

OoO

The next time I woke up, I was in my bed with my beautiful dragon's body pressed close to my own with his arms wrapped protectively around my waist. I didn't want to move and disturb the peaceful serenity that was accompanied by this loving position. But I had to pee.

I turned my head to the side and gently kissed Draco's cheek. The sensation woke him up, and he smiled groggily at me. He pulled me closer and kissed me back. He nuzzled his head in between the back of my neck and my collarbone. His hot breath felt loving and beautiful. Yes, it FELT beautiful. My damn bladder could wait; this was more important.

I closed my eyes, smiling to myself, and willed my body to drift off to sleep yet again. Of course, sleep didn't come that easily, so I curled around Draco, seeking the warmth and protection he provided. My needs were graciously answered when he decided that it was time to wake up. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Disheveled and gorgeous, I stared openly at my dragon. He didn't seem to mind (if he even noticed) so I didn't stop. Though, my actions did not go unnoticed by certain 'areas' of my body. I tried to breathe through the nearly overwhelming urge to jump him. Believe you me, it was not easy.

He looked over at me with those gorgeous eyes that could create murderous thunderstorms and calm even the most vicious of tsunamis. I felt my breathing hitch. I didn't deserve someone so perfect. I didn't deserve to have him. After all the shit I've put him through over the years, I'll never deserve him.

He wrapped me in a warm embrace, holding me close and protecting me. I didn't need to be protected, but somehow, with him around me, I didn't care.

I fought the urge to whimper as he let go of me, pulling himself up off the bed. He stood in his emerald boxers, searching for his pants. Unfortunately, he found them and pulled them up, adding a shirt to the mix. I sighed and dressed myself.

He pulled me toward the door and we walked through my Common Room together. Several people were alarmed at the sight of us. They may have been used to it, but after, according to Draco, a couple of months in the hospital, people certainly didn't expect to see me up and moving.

It was the week before Christmas break, and the outdoors were beautiful. Cold as hell, but beautiful nonetheless. A thick blanket of snow coated clung to everything. Delicate snowflakes were gliding gracefully to the ground, thickening the blanket. Everyone was smiling and laughing under the lazy sun, which had barely managed to remain visible with all the clouds.

It was a truly breath-taking sight to absorb.

Together, Draco and I made our way to the Lake, which had apparently frozen over. There were couples sitting under nearly every tree, just holding hands and gazing at the beauty of nature. They looked so happy. I didn't understand how anyone could look so peaceful. I don't think I ever will understand it.

Draco, gently lacing our fingers together, guided me to the only available tree. It was large and billowy, and it sat directly in front of the Lake. We sat down carefully, trying to avoid getting snow all over ourselves. He grinned and laughed joyfully when I slipped and landed on my arse, drenching myself in the icy liquid.

I glared at him. A thought came to mind and I turned my back to him, forming a snowball.

"Come on, Harry," he pleaded, "I was only joking."

I turned to him and smirked. In one quick, fluid motion, the snowball was flung from my grip and promptly landed on Draco's nose, the melting snow dripping down and covering his entire face. I sat back and laughed as he tried to remove the cold liquid from his porcelain skin.

"You know," he told me, wiping his eyes, "That wasn't very nice."

"Who says I'm nice?" I teased, looking him in the eyes.

He pretended to ponder something for a minute before answering. "Why, I do believe you did. I mean, if I'm not mistaken, that is."

I splashed some more snow at him. He shrieked from the contact and grabbed some of the white stuff from next to him. He flung it at me and I let out a shriek of my own.

In a few minutes, we were both drenched in freezing, melting snow and laughing our arses off. The laughter paused briefly while we caught our breath. Our eyes locked and I felt a sudden urge to cry. That beautiful, caring man loved me. Every defected part of me. That was something I just could not understand. How could somebody truly love me? I was broken and useless, and crazy to boot. (Though I haven't had a reoccurrence of the yelling with the voice in my head since I started taking Snape's prescribed potions). How could someone want a person who is diseased? Someone that can't even think for themselves anymore?

I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I barely noticed Draco moving closer to me. In fact, I really didn't notice him at all until he had pressed his soft, warm lips to my own. I found myself unable to breathe at the sudden and unexpected kiss. I didn't push him away, though I wanted to.

He pulled away and locked eyes with an intense stare. "Harry, stop doubting yourself. You deserve me, okay? No matter what anyone says or thinks or does, you deserve me."

How did he know? I mean, I don't recall him being a mind reader, so how did he manage to know exactly what was bothering me? Hell, I barely knew exactly what was bothering me!

"But I don't, Dray. I don't deserve you at all," I whispered, tearing my eyes away from his. I couldn't possibly explain what I was thinking. I don't think I even wanted to try. If he knew just what was going through my head, he'd have a panic attack. Period.

He turned my face toward his, causing us to lock eyes again. I felt a tear slip past my barricades. He leaned forward and gently wiped away the offensive water with the tip of his finger.

"Harry," he whispered to me, "You'll always deserve me."

OoOoO

The rest of the week passed in a bit of a blur. I was not focusing in my classes, and I kept drifting off into thought. Several times, Snape smacked me on the back of the head to bring me back, but the rest of the teacher's just let me wander off into my own little world. I think they were afraid of me having another 'incident'. At least I got out of having to make up class work.

It was Friday. I was in Double Potions with the Slytherins, my last class of the day. After this, there were two whole weeks off for the Christmas holidays. Nobody to bother me, and I could just think. Draco would be gone, too. He had to go home. I had offered to go home with him, you know, to protect him from his dad, but he had declined my offer saying his dad was more likely to hex me into oblivion than allow me in the house. Maybe I'll try and convince him again. I don't want him getting abused by that arrogant son of a bitch anymore than I want to watch Ron and Hermione 'enjoy' their holiday.

I sighed and looked over at Draco. He seemed perplexed and anxious. Seeing him like that made me want to cry. I'd never seen him like that before. Not even in third year when Hermione was threatening him. This was different. His expression remained blank and cold as always, but his eyes revealed his true terror. Gazing into them, I could see the frightened twelve-year-old sitting alone in a corner, crying and trying to hide from the man that fathered him his whole life. The image not only made me want to start crying, it also made my blood boil. I had the sudden urge to kill Lucius Malfoy.

Class was dismissed and Draco and I stood. I grabbed his hand and he led me from the room and down a dark, deserted dungeon corridor. Once we were well out of earshot of anybody, he finally stopped and looked at me.

"Listen Harry," he started quickly, grasping my other hand firmly as well. "I know you're about to demand to come home with me, but you can't. If Father sees you, he'll know I told you, and that'll just make things worse. He-He might try to hurt you, too. And I can't let that happen. So please don't even ask. Please."

His stormy eyes were begging me. But I had to stand my ground. "Dray," I said softly, gazing deeply into those beautiful eyes, "I'm coming with you. If your father wants to try to hurt you, let him. I'll blow him into millions of tiny little pieces when he does. I can't let you go home knowing you'll be hurt by that pathetic excuse of a human being. I'd end up hurting myself for it."

He started crying. "Harry," he whispered, "I love you."

OoOoO

We were in a limo, pulling up in front of Malfoy Manor. After our little chat in the corridor, Draco was convinced that me going wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be. Well, that was a relief. At least he had stopped hyperventilating. I will admit that his driver was more than a little surprised (and disgusted) to see me with Draco. He didn't question us, however, and drove us to the Manor as he had been instructed to do.

As the car pulled to a stop, Draco began hyperventilating again. I gave him a tight hug and he calmed down, though he was still breathing deeply. We walked to the door hand-in-hand, and Draco knocked hesitantly. I told him to just squeeze my hand whenever he needed reassurance, and boy was my hand sore. I should have asked him to try not to break any bones in the process, but now it was a little too late.

The older Malfoy answered the door, his long platinum hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He smiled warmly once he saw Draco, but grimaced as soon as he realized that I was there. I gave him my best grin while I tried not to strangle him right then and there. Trust me on this one; it was not easy in any sense of the word.

Draco began crushing my hand again, and I suppressed a wince. Lucius needn't see me in pain. Lord knows that wouldn't help me in dealing with the pervert.

"What is he doing here?" Lucius snarled at Draco.

"First off, I have a name. No doubt you know it, but just in case you'd managed to forget, I'll refresh your aging memory. My name is Harry James Potter. And secondly, I am here because I was invited by Draco. I do hope there isn't a problem with that?" I said to Lucius, hoping he would leave Draco alone.

He turned his glare toward me and I fought back a smirk. "Yes, I know your name, Potter. And of course I have a problem with you being here. You've ruined my life and you expect me to allow you undisturbed residence in my home for the next two weeks? You must have lost whatever pathetic excuse of a mind you had if you believe that to be true."

I didn't fight it this time and I smirked into his sneering face. "I lost my mind a long time ago, Lucius. And I do expect undisturbed, free residence in your home for the next two weeks, lest you end up like your old master. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

He snarled at me, but stepped aside to allow us entrance. We accepted without hesitation. The Manor was truly beautiful. It was laced in traditional Slytherin décor, but even that didn't bother me. The sofas and chairs all looked as soft as clouds. The rooms were enormous. And everything looked as if it had cost a fortune. Granted, it probably did, but still.

I heard someone stepping in behind us and was greeted by Lucius slamming his damn cane down on my foot. That fucking fucker.

"Where, exactly, do you plan on sleeping, Potter?" Lucius snarled at me. Draco squeezed my hand, nearly crushing the bones.

"Oh, I don't know," I said to him, glancing around the large living area, "Draco's room, perhaps?" I looked back him to find a sour look on his face. Obviously, he didn't approve. That just made the idea all the better.

"I hardly think such a thing would be appropriate. What sort of a father would I be if I allowed my son and his pet to sleep in the same room, on the same BED?" Lucius sneered.

I smirked. "It doesn't really matter where you put me. If and when we want to have hot, steamy sex, sleeping in the same bedroom isn't going to make much of a difference." That explanation caused an absolutely disgusted look to cross Lucius's face.

"Fine," he said between clenched teeth. "You may sleep together." With that, he turned and left the room. Draco turned to look at me, a relieved expression crossing his beautiful features.

"That went a lot better than I expected it to," he admitted, wrapping me in a tight embrace. It felt good, seeing as I hadn't had the opportunity to hug him during the past few hours.

"Alright, so now you have to show me this bedroom of yours that I've heard so much about," I smirked, kissing him lightly. He grinned at me and led me down a hallway. At the end of the hallway was a solid oak door with the initials DAM engraved on it. I smirked. Draco was pretty, 'dam' if I do say so myself.

He pulled the door open to reveal an absolutely immaculate bedroom. Though, I suppose I should have expected as much from him. Nothing Draco ever did was short of perfection. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure what exactly I was expecting from him. I suppose nothing really, but still.

I walked inside and plopped down on the comfy bed, which seemed to mold to fit my form. It was softer than a damn cloud, for Christ's sake! Draco sat down next to me, smiling softly. He leaned in and kissed me gently, swiping his tongue over my bottom lip. I smirked into the kiss and opened my mouth obligingly. I let him dominate the kiss, putting up very little of a fight. He didn't seem to notice, and in fact was extremely happy. He planted a soft trail of kisses down to my collarbone, where he sucked enough to leave a bruise. I didn't care though. It felt damn good. I might have even let out a soft moan, though I can't really be sure.

I know for a fact that as soon as those delicate hands started to trace the area around my nipples a moan ripped its way from my throat. I felt him smirk against the piece of collarbone he was still sucking hungrily. I felt so helpless, but I let him continue anyway.

He had just managed to get my shirt off and me on my back with him on top of me when the door opened (when did we ever close it?). Neither of us noticed until a very loud, angry voice started to yell at us.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Damn you Lucius! We were just starting to have fun, too! Fuck!

Draco rolled off of me quickly, obviously embarrassed. I just rolled my eyes and sat up. I met the eyes of the older Malfoy with a glare.

"What the fuck do you think _you're_ doing?" I countered, shooting him daggers.

He snarled at me. "Apparently, stopping you from raping my son," he growled.

"Raping?! He was on top of me!" I exclaimed furiously.

"Are you saying he initiated this 'incident'?" Lucius demanded, taking another step into the room, this time toward Draco.

"Yes, Father," Draco snapped, sitting up. "I 'initiated' this whole thing."

At first, I thought Lucius was going to hit Draco, but then the older Malfoy smirked. "I think we should show Mr. Potter what happens when children disobey, don't you think, Draco?"

Within a second, I was magically bound to the headboard. No matter how much squirming I did, I was not moving. I was absolutely horrified when Lucius started to take off his pants. I wanted to look away, but I just couldn't. Something about the way Draco dutifully got off the bed and knelt in front of his father without even an argument was sickening and impossible to look away from.

Draco closed his eyes and opened his mouth. I forced myself to turn away. However, it was in vain, for in a moment, something was forcing my head to turn back to the disgusting scene in front of me.

"You must watch," Lucius commanded, smirking at me. He was naked from the waist down and he had a hard-on. How he had gotten one so quickly, I don't think I even want to know. He turned back to Draco, grabbing his beautiful hair between his fists and tilting his head upward slightly before shoving himself inside. Even though Lucius must have missed it (seeing as his eyes were shut in apparent 'pleasure'), I saw the pained expression on Draco's face. The expression caused me to start crying silent tears as I helplessly watched the scene before me unfold.

Draco began sucking on Lucius's prick, eliciting a moan from the older man. I threw up a little in my mouth. It was only then that I noticed the tears slipping down Draco's paled cheeks. Now I felt truly terrible. I promised that I wouldn't let this happen, and here I was, just sitting and watching, unable to look away. Lucius finally came, forcing Draco to swallow all of it and lick up whatever was left.

He reopened his eyes and let go of his son's hair, smirking.

"Now, Mr. Potter, it's your turn."


	8. Ice Cream Truly Is Sexy

**A/N: I am so sorry that I haven't updated in so long! I promise I haven't abandoned you, though. I really have had major writer's block for the past couple weeks, and I was finally inspired after a rather disturbing dream I had the other night. So, here is Chapter Eight in all its glory. Reviews would be GREATLY appreciated! Thanks guys. (:**

Ice Cream Truly Is Sexy

OoO

My eyes widened in absolute shock. Well, shock and disgust anyway. My turn? What the hell?

"There is no way in fucking hell I'm sucking you off!" I exclaimed heatedly. Who the hell did he think he was?

"It appears you don't have much of a choice," he replied with a smirk. I threw up a little in my mouth again. He really got off on this. That sick bastard.

I held back a gag as Lucius walked over to me, a devilish glint in his eyes. Those eyes. They were like exact replicas of Draco's. I shuddered.

Lucius leaned in until his mouth was right next to my ear and I could feel his hot breath. Any other person and that action might be considered erotic, but as it was, I felt vulnerable and weak. Helpless. I had the sudden urge to cut myself, but there wasn't a razor in sight.

"You would do well to remember just who is in charge," Lucius whispered sadistically in my ear. I felt his tongue flick out and start tracing the edge of my ear lightly. I found myself breathing heavier and I was disgusted. Ew! "Because, Mr. Potter, I have a dire temper that just seems to flair when I am, disobeyed." The last word was a warning. A warning not to disobey.

And in a second, I was released and Lucius was gone. I sat up quickly and looked over at Draco, who was silently crying with his arms draped around the knees he had drawn into his chest. My heart sent a surge of pain through my entire body. My poor dragon.

I leaned over and hugged him, ignoring the fact that his bony knees were pressed roughly against my chest. I hated seeing him cry. It made me want to just, die.

Finally, Draco looked up at me with those beautiful stormy eyes. His cheeks were pale and tear-stained, and he looked as if he had just starved himself for weeks, what with the hollowness that seemed to have carved its way into my dragon's cheeks. His hair was a mess and it was scattered every which way.

"You are absolutely beautiful," I whispered, leaning in to give him a kiss. He didn't reply or respond, so I got worried. I pulled away and locked eyes with him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to me, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes again.

I felt my throat close up and tears begin to fall from my own eyes again. I shook my head. "No," I told him forcefully. "You don't have to apologize. You never have to apologize."

He smiled softly, tears still streaming from his eyes. He laid down on his back, facing the ceiling, then turned onto his side, facing away from me.

I sighed and laid back as well, turning my back to him. This had been a terrible night. A night worth forgetting. But right before I nodded off, I heard a whispered confession slip through my lover's lips.

"I love you, Harry."

OoOoO

I awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping directly into my damn ear. I shook my head violently and swatted at the ear, trying to get the offensive noise to stop. I heard someone laughing, so I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"I guess we aren't getting a bird," Draco laughed, setting a tray down in front of me. On it were biscuits, eggs, bacon, muffins, and some orange juice. I ate the biscuits and the eggs, and one of the blueberry muffins. I downed the orange juice greedily and finally looked up at him again.

"Don't like bacon?" he asked, eyeing the meat with a smirk.

"I don't eat meat," I informed him, grabbing another muffin. "In fact, I haven't eaten meat since fourth year."

His eyes widened. "Seriously? You're a bloody vegetarian?" He sounded shocked.

I laughed.

"Of course I am," I told him, still smiling. I set the tray aside and pulled him down on top of me, locking our lips together. Oh, he tasted SO good!

He pulled away and smiled at me. "Alright, I can live with that. Now, get dressed. We're going shopping."

I smirked at him. Of course we were going shopping. This was Draco Malfoy after all. What else would he want to do?

I stood up and undressed, not caring that he was staring at me, drinking in the sight of my naked body. I smirked inwardly as I pulled on a black t-shirt with a muggle band I really liked on it. Linkin Park. Oh, they were just fantastic! I slipped on a pair of jeans, grabbed my glasses and turned to face my beautiful dragon.

He was staring at me, slightly wide-eyed.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head quickly.

"No, not at all. It's just, I've only ever seen you in your uniform. You look bloody sexy in normal clothes, though I have absolutely no idea who the hell 'Lincoln Park' is," he said, reading the name on my shirt.

I laughed. "Thanks, Dray. And Linkin Park is a muggle band. American I think. And they're fucking amazing. Though I don't know if you'd like it. I mean, it's kind of different from what you normally listen to."

He glared at me.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, crossing his arms in front of him.

I sighed and rummaged around in my bag for a few seconds before pulling out my small, square, black iPod. I turned it on and skimmed through the songs until I found my favorite. Forgotten.

I put the earphones into Draco's ears, earning a very confused look from him, and pressed play. He damn near jumped out of his skin as soon as the blasting music filtered through the buds and filled his ears. He glared at me again, and I grinned sheepishly. I quickly turned the volume down and he listened intently for a few seconds. His expression changed once he heard the chorus, a look of deep understanding filling his face.

After the song was over, he removed the earphones from his ears and handed them back to me.

"I want one of those shirts," he said firmly.

I laughed. "Of course, love," I told him. "But first, we must go to a muggle mall. Are you up to the task?"

He smirked at me. "Of course I am. I am a Malfoy after all."

OoOoO

We were browsing through Hot Topic, a punk store, when Draco suddenly shrieked. I whipped around, as did many of the other shoppers, to see him grimacing at something on the back wall.

I walked over to him as everyone else went back to what they were doing.

"What the hell was that all about?" I demanded.

He pointed a shaky finger toward a black shirt hanging on the wall. In blocky, white letters, the shirt read:

Free Breathalyzer Test. All you've got to do is blow.

And an arrow pointed down toward where someone's crotch would be. I started cracking up and Draco looked at me reproachfully.

"You think that's funny?" he demanded, disgusted.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh come on, Dray. Lighten up, alright? It's just a joke."

He glared at me. I sighed and turned away, trying to hide the grin on my face. I left him standing there as I made my way to the back of the store where they usually kept the band t-shirts. I rummaged through the pile until I found a Linkin Park one in Draco's size. Well, the smallest size they had anyway. Damn, Draco was so thin!

I shook my head and started browsing around the various aisles. I found a bottle of glow-in-the-dark lubricant and picked it up with a smirk. Glow in the dark, huh? Now that would be fun to experiment with.

After a few more minutes of mindless browsing, I had also picked up a pen that lit up when you used it, some paper with Linkin Park on it, a couple of shirts, one that said:

Rainbows are gay?? Why didn't somebody tell me?? Now I have to change the color scheme of my whole damn house!!

I don't know. I thought it was pretty funny.

I paid for the stuff and waited patiently outside the store for Draco to be finished. I stood there for about twenty minutes before I started getting impatient. What could he possibly be doing in there?

Just as the thought swam through my head, my beauty strolled casually out of the store with at least seven bags hanging around his wrists. I stared, open-mouthed, at him.

"Draco, what the hell?" I demanded, pointing to all the bags.

He grinned at me. "Well, I exchanged some pocket change and ended up getting near one hundred and fifty thousand quid for it. So, I decided to go all out and buy whatever I decided that I wanted. And if I run out of money, we'll apparate to Diagon Alley and I'll just exchange more money. It's simple, really."

I gaped at him. He couldn't be serious. He just couldn't be. One hundred and fifty thousand? That had to be at least five hundred galleons! That would be serious pocket change!

He laughed at me. "Well, would you like to see what exactly I bought?" he asked, still laughing. I felt like an idiot. I had come with a budget of one hundred and fifty quid, and here he was spending a thousand times that much! And he could get more whenever he ran out!

I sighed. "Sure, but show me over some ice cream. I've had this insatiable craving for a sundae," I told him. He looked at me with a quirked eyebrow, and I laughed. "Come on, let me introduce you to the wonderful world of muggle food," I said, grabbing his hand and leading him in the direction of the food court.

We got there a few minutes later, and from his scrunched up nose, I could tell the smell bothered Draco. I just laughed at him. He looked like a bloody tourist.

"Harry," he whined. "It smells awful in here!" I dragged him to the nearest ice cream shop, ironically called, The Ice Cream Shoppe. We stood in line for a couple of minutes before a pudgy clerk behind the counter called, "Next!"

We stepped forward. She looked frazzled and totally annoyed, her curly red hair spraying across her round face. When she saw me, she grinned in I assume a flirtatious manner. I felt my face flush, which she took to mean I was interested. Stupid women.

"Hello and welcome to the Ice Cream Shoppe," she greeted with a grin. "May I take your order?"

I looked back at her and smiled. "Yeah, thanks. We'd like two ice cream sundaes please," I told her, looking up at the menu to see how much it would cost. To my surprise though, Draco already laid the amount on the counter, shooting the clerk death glares. I guess he noticed the looks she'd been giving me.

She either didn't notice or didn't care. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she smiled at me. I guess she would be pretty, I mean, for a girl anyway. Even if she was wearing a hideous white uniform striped in red and blue.

"That'll be eleven sixty-two," she smiled. I pointed to the money sitting on the counter and she blushed.

"Oops, sorry, must've missed that," she laughed. "Oh! Exact change! Now there's something you don't see every day," she commented. She placed the order and within minutes, she was handing me two bowls piled high with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, sprinkles, whipped cream, and one cherry sitting atop the mass.

"Though, I do have to wonder, why would you buy two of these for yourself?" she was flirting again. I fought the temptation to roll my eyes. She really was oblivious, wasn't she?

"If you don't mind," Draco snarled, stepping up beside me and grabbing my hand, "You would be wise to stop your useless pursuit of him." He glared at her briefly. "He's mine." I held down a laugh, and tried my damn hardest to keep my amusement from showing.

She looked at me, silently asking if it was true. Draco started pulling me toward the tables, and all I got to do was shrug and grin sheepishly before I was out of view.

Draco was fuming once we sat down. "That wench had the nerve to flirt with you when we are so obviously together!" he exclaimed. Nobody in the crowded room seemed to notice, which wasn't exactly surprising. "Such a dirty little whore, she is!"

I'd never seen this side of him, and I have to admit that it was comforting to know he was protective of me. Though, I didn't manage to suppress the laugh this time.

He glared at me. "You think this is funny? You were just as bad as her, flirting back right in front of me!"

I smirked. "Dray, calm down. I wasn't flirting. All I wanted was to get our food and leave. Trust me, I'm all gay. I found that out the hard way when Ginny and I, well…" I trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. I looked down at my hands.

"When you and Ginny what Harry? You didn't sleep with her, did you?!" He sounded accusatory. I looked up at him sheepishly.

"No, I didn't," I told him honestly. It was true; Ginny and I never actually had sex.

"Then what did you do?" he demanded, glaring at me suspiciously.

I inhaled deeply. This was so embarrassing. "Well, it was during Christmas in sixth year. Everyone had gone out to eat except me and Ginny. I was too tired and she just didn't want to go. Anyway, so I was just sitting on the sofa, reading a book when Ginny walked into the Living Room. We started talking, one thing led to another, and soon we were making out. She reached down and unzipped my pants before getting frustrated and just spelling them away. No matter how much she tried, I just couldn't…you know," I was looking everywhere except into Draco's eyes. I could feel how hot my face was and realized that to anyone passing by, I must look like a damn tomato.

"No, I don't know," Draco said, completely serious. I glared at him and he smirked. "Please, do elaborate."

"Oh, fuck you, Draco," I snarled.

He just kept smirking. In a low, sultry tone, he said to me, "Whenever you're ready, babe."

I felt something in my pants spring to life as I inhaled sharply.

"Draco," I hissed. "Not here!"

I looked down at my forgotten sundae. It had melted slightly, but would be perfect for this. I grabbed the spoon and dug into the mountain of sugary goodness. I brought the spoonful to my mouth and shoveled it into my mouth. The icy coldness from the ice cream cooled my body down and took away any chance of anyone noticing any excitement on my half.

He seemed to have lost all interest in the matter of our sex life, and instead was looking at me curiously. "Is it any good?" he asked, referring to the sundae.

I smirked. I spooned some of my sundae onto my spoon and held it at his mouth. He parted his lips and captured the spoon in one quick, fluid motion. His pink lips slid gracefully from the white plastic of the spoon in the sexiest way possible.

After a few lingering seconds, I moved my hand away from his mouth. "I think I like muggle food," he grinned, oblivious to the emotions that had just flooded my body.

I think we should buy some ice cream before we go home.

OoOoO

We got back to the Manor a few hours later, both of us loaded down with bags. Though, out of the thirty or so bags I was carrying, only three of them were actually mine. We were laughing and joking as we hiked up the stairs into his bedroom. We let the bags drop to the floor and we collapsed on the bed, exhausted. I turned on my side to face him, and found that he was smirking.

"What?" I asked, feeling myself blush a little.

"How about we look at everything we bought today?" he suggested. There was a hint of something else in his voice, but I couldn't quite tell what it was. I shrugged.

"Sure." I grabbed the nearest bag and dumped its contents onto the bed. This happened to be one of Draco's bags (go figure), and it was from the Bath Store. There were bottles of shampoos and conditioners in all different scents, along with three things of body wash, and some bath salt.

I picked up one of the body washes and snorted once I read the label.

"Draco, seriously? 'Sun-Kissed Orchid'?" I started laughing and he snatched the bottle from me.

"I happen to think that it smells wonderful!" he hissed, turning up his nose. Just then, the door to the room slammed open, and in walked Lucius. I instinctively reached for my wand, but thought better of it at the last minute and instead ran my hand through my hair.

"What smells wonderful, Draco?" Lucius asked curiously, stepping into the cluttered room. He grimaced at the amount of bags.

Draco swallowed and looked up at Lucius nervously. "My new body wash," he said to him quietly.

"Well, may I see it?" Lucius asked with an outstretched hand.

Draco willingly and obediently placed the body wash in Lucius's outstretched hand, still looking directly into his eyes. I hated that his father brought out the fearful side of Draco. It just wasn't right.

Lucius unscrewed the cap of the body wash and took a long sniff before sealing it up and handing it back to Draco. "You're right, son. It smells wonderful. In fact, go take a shower and use this. Come back in when you're done."

Draco nodded and stood. He grabbed his towel from a shelf but Lucius grabbed his arm as he was about to leave. "No. You don't need that," he told Draco firmly, indicating the towel.

Draco dropped the towel and left the room.

"Now," Lucius said once the door was closed. "I don't think we got to finish last night, did we?"


	9. Just A Promise

**A/N: I know I haven't updated in quite a long time, but I will finish this story. So here's the next installment, and the next chapter should be up relatively soon. Thanks for the reviews guys! :D**

Just A Promise

OoO

My hand, which had landed right inside my pocket, gripped my wand tightly.

In one fluid motion, Lucius was on top of me, the weight of his body practically suffocating me.

"Get off!" I managed to scream into his face. He just smirked at me, not moving.

I freed my hand, wand still in grip, and directed it at Lucius from the side. He didn't seem to notice, which of course worked in my favor. One quick flash of light and Lucius was sprawled across the floor, dead or alive; it was hard to tell.

Except, I hadn't cast a spell.

I looked up in surprise to see Draco standing, fully clothed, in the doorway of the room. Lucius had landed on a pile of bags (how couldn't he have?), crushing the contents. I looked up at Draco from my position on the bed, questioning his motives without having to say a word.

"He was trying to hurt you," he whispered to me, his voice barely audible.

I nodded, and then got up off the bed. With a few quick flicks of my wand, Lucius was bound and gagged, his wand in my possession.

"So what do we do now?" Draco asked me, looking resentfully toward his father's unconscious frame. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. I mean, here was this amazingly misunderstood child, with the brilliance of Einstein himself (who indeed was a wizard), abused and neglected by the man supposed to protect him. And all he could do was play along, never questioning his father's motives, because after all, he was his father, a man he was supposed to trust and put his faith into.

For a while, I didn't answer. And for a while, Draco just stared at me. But finally, I locked eyes with my boyfriend, and said to him,

"We're going home."

He looked at me, astonished.

"But this IS home, Harry," he said to me quickly. "It's the ONLY home I know."

I nodded at him. "I know," I said calmly, "But it's about time you learned of a new home. MY home."

He looked scared for a few moments, and then smiled.

"Alright, I think I can manage that, just so long as you're there with me."

I smiled back at him.

"Then let's get to packing."

OoOoO

Only a few hours later, with my help of course, Draco was fully moved into Grimmauld Place. The only things left in the Manor were the bedclothes. Seriously, we even snagged all the food. Hell, I took the damn toilet paper. Let's see Lucius try to wipe his pompous arse with a couple of leaves from the greenhouse!

"Thanks Harry," Draco said to me as we sat down at the dirty old table in the dusty kitchen. "For getting me out of there I mean. I don't think I could have done anything resembling that if it hadn't been for you." He smiled at me. "I truly love you."

I summoned the food, charming it to set itself down gently in front of us. Smiling, I looked up at my Dragon.

"I'm sorry it's so filthy, Dray," I apologized sheepishly. "I haven't been here in a while."

He grinned. "It's okay, Harry. We'll clean it up after dinner."

A grimace splayed across my face. Clean? I detested cleaning.

"Come on now," Draco laughed. "It'll be loads of fun, I promise."

"I don't know," I said reluctantly. "But if you say it'll be fun, then I'll just have to take your word for it."

Draco smiled, his stormy eyes lighting up. My heart sent a funny feeling through my body, and I couldn't place it. Love? Confusion? Desire? It was something I've felt before, but not this strongly, and trying to name it at that time proved impossible. So instead of dwelling, I finished my dinner, helped Draco unpack, and set to cleaning the kitchen.

"Harry," Draco whined from the downstairs bathroom, "There's a bug in here!"

"So?" I called back. "Step on it."

"I don't have any shoes on," Draco called.

Sighing, I made my way over to the bathroom. I stepped inside and looked around for the alleged bug, but couldn't find it. I looked up at Draco, whose face held a devilish grin.

"There's no bug," I told him.

"Oh, must've been mistaken then, I s'pose," He smirked. Before I knew what was happening, Draco's mouth had found mine, and a deep kiss pursued. Shocked, it took me a minute to accurately assess the situation, and when I finally realized what the hell was happening, I found the bottom of Draco's shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Guess you're not much one for foreplay, eh?" Draco laughed.

"It's unnecessary; sex is much more fun than foreplay, I assure you," I told him matter-of-factly. He just smirked at me before pulling my shirt over my head.

We ditched our pants and our briefs and started kissing again.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" I asked Draco breathlessly.

He nodded.

"All right, but let's take this out of the bathroom," I said with a little laugh.

He followed me upstairs into our bedroom, where we'd conveniently put our shopping bags. Remembering the lube, I started rummaging through the bags.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Draco asked, confused.

"Looking for the lube I bought," I answered.

"Lube?" He sounded like he'd never heard of it before.

"Yeah, lube. So I don't tear your arse when I, erm, you know," I explained, blushing a little.

"When you what?" Draco asked innocently, but I knew he was smirking. "When you _fuck_ me?"

Hearing that dirty little word come out of his mouth sent shivers coursing through my body. I didn't answer (due in part to the large lump that had formed in my throat) and instead continued looking for the lube.

"No response?" Draco said teasingly. "But Harry, I thought you wanted to _fuck_ me?"

There it was, that chill again.

"I thought you wanted to ram your throbbing hard _cock_ into my tight _arse _over and over until you _came_ all over my _face_," he continued. I heard him stepping closer to me. Soon he was leaning over me as I continued to wordlessly rummage through the bags. I felt his hard member pressing against my lower back, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Harry," Draco whispered into my ear, his breath like warm caresses, "I want you to _fuck_ me _now_."

Finally, I pulled out the jar of glow-in-the-dark lube and ran to shut the lights off.

I knelt on my knees and began to suck on my Dragon's now throbbing member while my fingers started stretching out his arse. His soft moans were more than enough encouragement to continue, and my own cock longed for attention.

In a few minutes, I stopped sucking on Draco and turned him around.

"Lay down," I said hoarsely.

He did as I asked, and I spread the lube all over my cock. I entered him gently at first and gave him some time to adjust.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

A grunt was my only response, which I took to mean as, 'Yes, now fuck me hard.'

I started ramming my cock in and out of his arse as fast and hard as I could for as long as I could. Draco screamed and moaned and growled and made all sorts of other delicious noises that just drove me to drive into him harder.

Fifteen minutes later, I abruptly pulled out and flipped my Dragon over. I couldn't tell where his face was, so I started wanking over where his torso should have been. Seconds later, orgasm took me as hot cum spurted out.

Before I knew what was happening, a cock shoved its way into my mouth. Draco's hand grabbed the back of my head and he started fucking my mouth. A few minutes later, hot sticky liquid filled my mouth, and I swallowed every delicious drop of it.

Satisfied, we both collapsed on the bed next to each other.

"I guess we'll have to wash the bed sheets," Draco murmured. I smiled and kissed him on the forehead.

"Tomorrow," I whispered before falling into a deep sleep.

OoOoO

The next day, Draco and I picked up around the house. We polished everything until it sparkled, and we washed every item of clothing in the house. Grimmauld Place looked better than it had in years. Even Sirius would be impressed.

The thought of Sirius saddened me, and Draco could tell.

_He deserved to die._

What?

_He deserved to die, and you know it._

No, not you again. Just go away!

_You suppressed me for a while, Potter, but you haven't been taking Severus' potions, have you? _

Shit!

_Now now, there's no reason for profanity, Potter. I've come to talk to you about something much more important. I've come to talk to you about Draco._

Don't you fucking _dare_ talk about Draco.

_You're hurting him, you know. _

What are you talking about? I'm not hurting him!

_Of course you are, Potter. You're a virus that infects everyone he loves. The only way to avoid infecting people is to avoid your loved ones. Including Draco._

I am not hurting him. He loves me and I love him, and that's all that matters!

_Ha! Stop torturing yourself, Potter. He doesn't love you, and he never did. He just needed some help in taking his father out of the picture so he could run away. He didn't care that you were the one who helped._

"NO!"

_Come on, Potter. You know that I'm right. You know he never really cared about you. Deep down inside, you know that to him you were just some fling, if that. Tell me, do you think he'll mourn you when you die? Or do you think he'll avoid the funeral and completely ignore you're "relationship?" _

…

_Exactly. Potter, stop fooling yourself. Draco was a Death Eater. He's never loved a damn thing in his entire life except killing innocent people. Sure, he says that he's over that, that he never wanted anything to do with that, but whom are you going to believe?_

"I believe him."

_Potter, I saw the look on his face every time he slaughtered another innocent witch, wizard, or muggle. He showed no remorse, no grief. I saw his eyes light up at the prospect of killing Dumbledore, at the prospect of killing _you_. Do you really believe that those thoughts have just vanished?_

"He loves me, dammit!"

_Whom are you trying to convince? Me? Or yourself?_

"Harry!" Draco yelled. "Stop. Stop talking to him. Just look at me."

I turned my gaze toward the sound of his voice, but I couldn't see anything. I felt cold, isolated. My vision swam with shades of grey and black. My legs weakened, and I felt my body collapse.

_That's a good boy. Let me control you for a while; you need a rest. I'll do what you can't._

"No." The word sounded so distant, so far away. I could feel my mind slipping, trying to fight off some dominating force. I couldn't keep fighting for much longer, and I'm betting He knew that.

_Stop fighting me, boy. It'll only make things worse. I promise I'll only be here a while and then you can have your bloody body back. I just need to take care of a few things._

"No, please, don't." I was begging. The dominating force was starting to really take over.

"Harry," it was a whimper from somewhere way off in the distance. That voice; I knew that voice. I racked my brain, trying to place it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I knew who it was. Draco, my beautiful, glorious Dragon.

A sudden rush of adrenaline allowed me to fight off that oppressive force.

_You may have won this time, Potter, but your "Dragon" won't be there to protect you forever._

My vision returned and I opened my eyes to see tears soaking Draco's gorgeous porcelain skin.

"I am so sorry," I whispered.

"Harry!" His stormy eyes lit up and he pulled me into a bear hug. "I am so glad you're okay."

I smiled. "Dray, promise me something, alright?"

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Okay," he said slowly.

"Promise me that you'll never hate me, no matter what I do," I said quickly.

He pondered the thought for a second.

"I promise."


End file.
